I’m an old man, once new to this city
An outsider right in its core
This is my story without lasting glory
I was rich but fast became poor

If my life was a book, and this just one page
It would be battered and tattered and torn
Over the years the words would not matter
As the pages got increasingly worn

All this time, I’ve resisted to ask
Why the big apple possesses that name
So, I decided to venture, right into its centre
And the answer I’d hope to ascertain

First thing’s first, a plan I contrived
To discover why it’s not called a pear
I’d start in the Bronx, and if I survived
I’d then finish at last in Times Square

I found out the hard way, to be soft in the Bronx
Is a death sentence set in stone
So, watch where you’re going, and look over your shoulder
Trust no one but don’t walk alone

I heed my advice and get on a bus
Hoping the core’s not so dire
But like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to the lights
And got burned, playing with fire

I’ve never been a gambling man
But when in Rome…
I rolled the dice, and paid the price
Left with a bus fare, to get back home

It’s amazing how these New York models
Delight in such crude vanity
It occurred to me they just love to be
On stage with all its profanity

For them it is so natural
To be so artificial
Like GM in plants, they all have implants
They’re not unique, just superficial

Racking my brain for the cause of its name
Then suddenly it came to me
Adam and Eve take a bite from an apple
And bring shame to all humanity

It turned out that the deepest part, of the shiny fruit
Was in fact as shallow as a dandelion’s roots
Lunch time beckons, I must go and eat
I’ve gone off apples, so I’ll cook some meat