frankie argie mchugh - hart street sweetheart. Lyrics

March twenty-second twenty-twenty-four.
The heating pipes sounded like crickets before the storm came.
N' murdering march means mourning montana.
So may april showers bring tin foil potted flowers.
And if so or not, oh well, i'm tasting something sticky now.
A lucky little lady, i'm a licker of a letter.
Cause candle lighting brought writing, a fever for ink can relieve.
The tales and typed i can relive.
For the well went from holy water to flat champagne.
But i remember all that kept me here.
So f*ck champers, enjoy your campfire smoke for it's forgiving.
Maybe not as contagious as thus of this backyard in bedstuy.

So i'll type, type, type and handwrite.
I'll let you know about the bumblebees and butterflies.
The fireworks from the forth of julies,
And the eyes i lose myself in, shades of brown.
Skinny dippings i've given tries to crystalize.
Cause i don't trust the telephone, i've faith only in typewriters.
You're two hours behind me, what might happen till then?
Spelling errors in the both the sunrise and sunset,
Are as close as speaking out loud to you as i can get.
The tables been still set for two, just in case i do cook for you.
I'm only ever a better man when i've your appetite and an appetite for you.
My hart street sweetheart the birds in bedstuy remind me of you,
And as i've been staying up to see hear them.
Cause a little birdie told me the chirping means prey isn't around.
And just maybe you're watching the sun say hello too.

So i type, type, type, and handwrite.
I'm tattooing the stamp you said i could pick out for a tattoo for you,
But i'm not telling you.
A surprise our skins will reveal in time.
Because i miss it, being brooklyn-blocks away.
You're body in my bed, the only body that's held onto me without the flush fleeting.
Never leaving me like the february you told me.
So i've the seeds you sent me for my birthday, they're blooming.

N' i'll keep on type, type, typing and handwriting.
About the books i bought, the poems i wrote, and how i'm trying to be less like the peaches i've chewed on.
Missing you as i address to your grandmother's home, what's walked to the mailbox.
For hart street you've the sweetest heart.
I said heart street you've the sweetness i've sought.
The sweetest heart, oh heart street.