(Frank Christian)
The drops from the faucet like a nervous heart
Beat on my porcelain sink a rhythm avant-garde
I page through the phone book, reach for my fountain pen
Is he comin' in for the holidays to haunt me again?
I call up Grand Central, "information please.
Is that nickel line on time? Oh fine!"
It's a hair-do with a wave
We both forgot and forgave last time
A peddlar of pots and pans down on Union Square
Said City Hall wants us off the street
There's no Christmas in the air
Some high-brows were waiting
Carnation bright lapels
Their big cars lined the curbs outside those grand hotels
I pa**ed a marquee, Third Avenue
"Ramona" with Loretta Young and I swung myself around
And (headed) uptown to the train
So this is New year's eve another year has pa**ed
We wait so patiently, (but) still they come and go so fast
I stand on this platform, wait for that basket of light
And the sound of the whistle screamin' out
Like some hot trumpet in the night
And ... as I'm waitin' I wonder why and where ...
And what went wrong
But this song don't tell no lies
It was just a quick good-bye, yeah