Cifras
In Brooklyn

             D                                       F#m                               Bm         D 
'Oh I come from Pittsburgh to study astrology,'
                 G                                   A7                                   D 
She said as she stood on my instep,
                             F#m                                   Bm                           F#m 
'I could show you New York with a walk between
 Bm                                                 A7 
Fourth Street and Nine.'
                     D                             F#m                       Bm         D 
Then out of her coat taking seven harmonicas
                 G                                   A7                       D 
She sat down to play on a doorstep saying
 F#m                                   Bm                                       F#m                               Bm 
'Come back to my place I will show you the stars
                             A           Em     A7 
and the signs'.
Pre-Chorus:1
                 Bm                                                           D 
So I followed her into the black lands
                                     Bm                                                                         D 
Where the window frames peel and flake
                               G 
And the old Jewish face behind the lace
                                     G                                                                                   A7 
Even now trying to get to see what's cooking
                                                 G 
Just John the Baptist in the park getting laid
                                                         A7                 D         A7   D 
thinking there's no-one look   i     ng.
                             G                     A7                                         G                                     A7 
And its eighty degrees and I'm down on my knees
           D                       Bm         D           Bm 
in Brooklyn.
               D                                       F#m             Bm                       D 
Her house was a dusty collection of rusty
               G                                   A7                                   D 
Confusion with landings and tunnels
                 F#m                             Bm                       F#m                         Bm 
And leaning bookcases and spaces and faces and
 A7 
things
                         D                                                           F#m           Bm 
Where twenty-five Puerto Ricans, Manhattan
             D 
Mohicans
                   G                     A7           D 
And Jewish-Italian Pawnbrokers
 F#m                     Bm                   F#m                             Bm 
Lead their theatrical lives in their rooms in the
 A             Em     A7 
wings
Pre-Chorus:2
                       Bm                                   D 
While outside in the black lands
                 Bm                                             D 
The violent day runs wild
                               G 
And the black and white minstrelsrun through the crazy alleys
                                   G                       A7 
While the cops go booking
                 G 
And ruthless toothless agents sneak around and
                           A7                 D         A7   D 
there's no-one look   i       ng
                             G                   A7                                             G 
And it's eighty degrees and I'm down on my
 A7                     D                     Bm 
knees in Brooklyn.
                 Bm6       G                                                 D7M     Bm 
And oh, I'm back in the city again.
                               Bm6                                                             G 
You can tell by the smell of the hamburger stand
                       F#7(4)   A7 
in the rain....
Verse: 3
                 D                         F#m                                     Bm                         D 
She spoke of astrology while muttering apologies
               G                                 A7                     D 
For coffee that tasted of hot dogs
                       F#m       Bm                                   F#m   Bm 
I said 'That's OK, mine was cold anyway, and
                 A7 
just grand'
                                   D                             F#m                               Bm       D 
Then she lay on the bed while the radio fed us with
 G                                       A7                               D 
Records and adverts for cat food
                     F#m                               Bm                             F#m 
And I looked at her, holding my thoughts in the
 Bm                             A         Em       A7 
palm of my hand
Pre-Chorus:3
                 Bm                                     D 
And outside in the black lands
                 Bm                                                     D 
The evening came and went
                               G 
And the bums in the street begging money for one
last drink
                                             G 
Are hanging round the liquor stores trying to get
         A7 
a foot in
                               G 
And the girl from Pittsburgh and I made love on a
 G                                                           A7                         D         A7   D 
mattress with the new moon look   i       ng.
                                       G                                       A7                                   G 
And in the cool evening breeze I was down on my
 A7                     D                     Bm     G     D 
knees in Brooklyn.....