Оригинален текст
Well we're all packed up and we're iroquois bound,
tuning our ears for the f.m. sound.
we got a million problems, we're on our way,
44th, new york, u.s.a.
That big crazy city don't blink an eye,
anytime we pass by.
it just keeps strechting up so high,
like a rocket, shooting, to the sky.
iroquois ! iroquois !
Special branch got their feelers out,
our names and addresses 'cos we're in doubt.
down the corridor, keep in lane,
find the worst seats on the plane.
Find a tacky statue three inches high,
dirty rain falls from a dirty sky.
on the corner of the street there's a big black fella' ..
trying to sell me an umberalla.
Get the kraut boys round for a smoke an' a beer,
there's gotta be a pizza delivery near.
call the barf patrol, there's a stain on the floor,
a weeks p.d's for the bathroom floor.