by Sargam Garg
A big city with small hearts,
New York dulls my senses,
Winter, wine, and neon lights,
I am a free captive of this human zoo.
Ah! But to be a prisoner in love,
Once I have been that too,
Let me go back to Athens,
My feelings are buried in the past.
Will he still be there at the Acropolis?
Capturing life with his paintbrush,
Celebrating love with his harp,
Let me excavate, Let me excavate!
Pity! In Athens my love is history,
In novelty loving New York,
Today my love is an antique,
Decorates my aging heart.
