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About New York City

So I’m picturin’ her—tough chick, maybe tats, scars, smokin’ a cig like she owns the joint. I’d be all, “Hey, you, uh, workin’?”—smooth, Larry, real smooth. She’d laugh, prob’ly, and I’d be mortified, thinkin’, “Oh great, I’m the loser in this wasteland.” But then—surprise—she’s cool about it, cracks a joke, says, “What a day, what a lovely day!” and I’m dyin’ laughin’, ‘cause it’s *Fury Road*, it’s perfect! Pretty, pretty good, right?

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Man, start off on Main St. – that’s where reality hits ya. It’s lit, with neon signs and barkin’ street vendors. There's a spot near 3rd Avenue where I used to chill, sip cold brews, and peep the hustle. Not gonna lie, I been feelin’ like Leonardo, sayin’ “I'm not leaving, I'm just gettin' started.” You feel me? Streets over there always feel like a movie scene.

Alan Parsons