>Isn’t the Internet great?

Remember Grace Jones? She was this Jamaican Supermodel with a block head and sharp features. She looked as if she didn’t know that she could smile and maybe she couldn’t.
She had some big hit albums in the 80’s and I danced to many of her songs in the Disco’s in Amsterdam.
My favorite was the Koer, a white club in an alley.
Eddy de Clerc was one of the DJ’s.

Last night I thought of Grace Jones and thought of that song that I thought she wrote.
I wasn’t sure if it was her song, as I only heard it a couple of times and I didn’t remember much but one line helped me find it –
new york putting its feet to the floor
and through Google
that led me to The Guardian’s article: Songs with New York I found the song.
It is called
The Apple Stretching and these are the lyrics:

The sun comes swaggering across the harbour,
And kisses the lady waiting in the narrows,
She already plenty shaky stands there,
Blushing, clutching the torch of liberty,
Uptown luigi who dont speak english so good,
Is having an accident,
Backing his dumptruck into the fence,
The tin cans go clattering down the lane,
A drowsy bum thinks its thunder,
And pulls the news over his head to stop the rain.

No, it aint judgement day,
No, it aint armageddon,
Its just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning.

New york putting its feet on the floor,
Its just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New york putting its feet on the floor.

Suburban refugees fleeing the cracked cisterns,
Worm ridden fruit trees stream out grand central,
Please to be breathing bagels and pollution.

In time square new graffiti, old revolutions,
A bag lady is cursing the waiter for giving her a free coffee
Lucky hes a jesus freak moonlighting,
At the acme discount store over in queens,
The burglar alarm starts to scream,
A cop picks out his gun fires one and yells, freeze!.

No, it aint worl war four,
No, it aint world war four,
Its just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New york putting its feet on the floor.

Nearby the hudson a hooker makes a u,
To help a blind man to his pew in the park,
Some long ago home training jars the memory,
The bag lady says thank you and curties.

The herd of beaten tourists limp homeward,
Having bitten off more than they could chew,
Moaning them old big city blues,
Miss liberty depicts her qualms and grins,
Another subway starts rattling,
And luigis cans go clattering down the hill.

No, it aint some kind of ill wind,
No, it aint the world coming to an end,
Just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New york putting its feet on the floor.

Her voice sounds sexy in this song, sexy and soft.
How is she doing Grace Jones?
Anyone knows?

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