Drops From The Faucet

(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*sed 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*sed 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