Tourists climb me, yet bare feet hate me.

My parents are French but I was raised in NYC. No green card, but a bit of a green sheen. Good luck deporting me!

Cars honking, People bustling, Neighbors chatting, Sirens blaring, Arenas roaring, Subways rumbling, Restaurants serving, Nights buzzing. With all this noise inside me, it's no wonder I never sleep.

Add a first letter, I become a landform. Remove my second and last letter to drink me. I can be everything if the last two letters are gone. What am I?

In the land where leprechauns play, Where rainbows dance and gold stays, The sky meets its end, At the land where it bends, An endless line where dreams sway.