Here the story gets hazy and the hair gets too long and the T.V. gets quiet as I hear a real bad song. The mothers get whiskey and the girlfriends get tongue and there's a back of a truck selling smoke free lungs. And there's a back of a truck selling alien pods, and there's a back of a truck selling game show hosts. And there's a back of a truck selling the souls of the dead, and there's a back of a truck selling crumb free bread. This is New York!