With her face like granite, and her arms just cuttin’ the air
And you try to keep up ‘cause there’s music where her head’s so clear
And you grab her skirt and hang on ‘til it starts to tear
While she’s kicking a paper bag, that one time held a bottle of beer

And here then is why you been tramping
Here then is what you been spinnin’ for
Here is the masterpiece, here is the missing piece
Whom you’re so proud to love

But she said, You can’t ever own me
You can’t ever own me
If the New York City lights can’t hold me
If the trees out in Brooklyn Heights can’t hold me
If the gods themselves can’t even touch my skin
Who do you think you are
You can’t ever own me

Tried reasonin’ with her–that’s like talkin to the wind or the sea
She blows round and round, til you find there’s no place to grasp
She’ll pause long enough to sit with you for a bottle of sas–
Parilla and then, there’s somewhere she’d rather be

Oh you know she’s why you been trampin
You know she’s what you’ve been spinnin for
She is the masterpiece, she is the missing piece
Whom you’re so proud to love

But she said , You can’t ever own me
You can’t ever own me
If the New York City lights can’t hold me
If the trees out in Brooklyn Heights can’t hold me
If the gods themselves can’t touch my skin
Who do you think you are
You can’t ever own me

(lyrics: Dan Bern)