Drops From The Faucet

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 coming in for the holidays to haunt me again I call up the 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 peddler 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 line the curbs outside those grand hotels I pa*sed a marquee, Third Avenue "Ramona" with Loretta Young and I swung myself around I headed uptown to the train So this is New Year's eve another year has pa*sed We wait so patiently, still the car goes so fast I stand on this platform, wait for that basket of light And the sound of the whistle screaming out Like some hot trumpet in the night And as I'm waiting 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