Got my work clothes on full of sweat and dirt.
All this holy dust upon my face and' shirt.
Heading uptown now, just as the shifts are changing,
To Grand Central Station.
Got my lunch box, got my hard hat in my hand.
I ain't no hero, mister, just a working man.
And all these voices keep on asking me to take them,
To Grand Central Station.
Grand Central Station.
I want to stand beneath the clock just one more time.
Want to wait upon the platform for the Hudson Line.
I guess you're never really all alone, or too far from the pull of home,
And the stars upon that painted dome still shine.
I paid my way out on 42nd Street.
I lit a cigarette and stared down at my feet.