I’m a full-fledged, dyed-in-the-wool Brooklynite. My parents were born and raised in Brooklyn. I grew up in the street, and my friends’ houses. We all got a good education, but we learned about life and living from our neighbors and friends’ families. People were characters, full of personality, jokes and wisdom from all over the world. Food was from everywhere, second to none. The people, second to none. We learned to stand up, that you never lay down, to think fast or pay the piper.
Of course, the whole world is interesting, there’s smart, talented people, characters everywhere. Brooklynites don’t have a corner on the market. But, we’re more concentrated in every way. I’ve lived and worked several places, and Brooklyn serves me well anywhere I go. No matter how far I roam, I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
I like people, going new places, learning ’em. But I’m a homing pigeon; I can’t stay away from Brooklyn too long without really jonesing for it. If I go a couple years without being here, I’m hurting. The older I get, the worse it is. After 24 out of 26 months away, I’ve been home 10 months now, and I really don’t ever want to leave again. The old-timers, the accents, the sense of humor make me feel right.
I’ll let my song lyrics sum it up.
Brooklyn In My Bones
© & (P) 2013 Jeffrey D. Alexander, as administered by Cousin Moe Music, Inc./BMI
I come from Brooklyn,
We had all kinds of people.
Brooklyn has stories to tell.
For some it’s our birthplace,
The home of our fathers.
For some, it’s their liberty bell.
Yeah, I come up in Brooklyn.
It’s in every step I take.
Nothing surprises me.
The streets were my classroom.
The people my professors.
Brooklyn was my university.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
You don’t talk about our mothers.
In Brooklyn that’s no joke.
(And) When you are from Brooklyn,
You might get beat, you don’t get broke.
Stoopball, stickball,
How many sewers can you hit?
Give us a street or sidewalk,
We’d make a game of it.
Pizza, Nathan’s hot dogs,
Knishes and egg creams.
Egg rolls and cannolis,
The world catered our dreams.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones
Catholic, Baptist, Hindu or Jew,
Whomever you pray to we had some of you.
Russian, Italian, Caribbean, Chinese,
Immigrants talk different,
Their kids speak Brooklynese.
We had Brooklyn to live up to,
We knew you never quit.
We learned how to take a hit,
And to find another way.
Brooklyn made you fast,
And kept you on your toes,
You grew eyes behind your head.
We knew better than to doze.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
Yeah, I come from Brooklyn.
It’s in every breath I take.
I’ve left, but I never leave.
Brooklyn travels with me.
It’ll always be home.
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones.
Brooklyn in my bones,
No matter how far I roam,
I still have Brooklyn in my bones.