Ooh, in my dream, she's there
She turns, hidden by her hair
But when I finally see her face, you invent an unfamiliar face
For me
Ooh, then you look my way
-The one witness who can say
How I'd been dormant through the day, and now it's you and I
Who can stare into each other's eyes
And bask in poor sobriety
To tend my deepest fantasy
I wonder what society
Escapes my hopeless fantasy
You saw when Gatsby died
Right here, same old town, beside
A bed of broken dreams, he lied, now I've that endless gaze
But without the flowry turn of phrase
While you survey from heaven's breast
A quartet of eyeballs sharing your spite
My tattered lasso lies at rest
Just a threat-less rag to your glaring light
She sold apparel in Manhattan
So unrecognizably vain
I stayed a night more in Manhattan
But never saw her again