A promised phone call home to A Minnesota mining town From a tired hungry kid Whom the Greyhound just let down On the January snow in his canvas tennis shoes The kid just took his first walk Down the great Fifth Avenue With a guitar on his shoulder And a pocket full of songs He's here to make his debut He's here to right some wrongs But he's a bit short on references His future's hanging loose Just another midnight cowboy On the great Fifth Avenue And in some noisy uptown night club Or in a Bleeker Street cafe With sweaty hands and shaky knees He takes the stage It ain't no friendly city If you haven't got the bread Cause those who have ain't sharing With those who wish they had Sleeping out in subways Keeping warm on cheap booze Living with the high and mighty On the great Fifth Avenue And in some noisy uptown night club Or in a Bleeker Street cafe With sweaty hands and shaky knees He takes the stage In a well guarded beach-house On the California shore A man lives with his loneliness And the songs he writes no more Not real sure where he came from And no place to go to Just some hazy memories Of the great Fifth Avenue [The Swedish version is more or less a description of the Fifth Avenue - the Chorus can be translated as "I take a taxi from Harlem / down to the Washington Square / five miles reflecting / a whole world".]