We’re waltzing down West Houston Street
at one am on Saturday.
We’re restless, so we walk concrete
to village clubs where hot bands play.

We love the noise, we love the lights,
the ice-cold beer, the people here.
The clothes we wear are black and white.
The night’s quite warm. The moon moves near.

Oh yeah,
oh yeah,

we all like it.
We all spike it.
We’re all psychic.
We all like it.

Washington
Square Park
looks real good
after dark.

Washington
Square Park
looks real good
after dark.

The streets are hot, the women bold.
We’re headin’ for a manic place.
We look real tough. We’ve got some gold.
A good time’s worth a real good chase.

The moon moves to its closest height.
We Villagers are hoppin’ now.
We’re gonna make the night all right.
We’re all red hot on streets real loud.

Oh yeah,
oh yeah,

we all like it.
We all spike it.
We’re all psychic.
We all like it.

Washington
Square Park
looks real good
after dark.

Washington
Square Park
looks real good
after dark.

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