Mary Boone

Painted white, new in town You weren't hiring, but I was looking In those days, my working days Came in from Jersey, not from Brooklyn Oh, my love, was it all in vain? We always wanted money, now the money's not the same In a quiet moment at the theater, I could hear the train Deep inside the city, your memory remains Mary Boone, Mary Boone I'm on the dark side of your room Mary Boone, Mary Boone Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon Crooked crime, petty cop Not on the street yet, but it was cooking In those days, the burning days The one from Queens, not from Brooklyn Oh, my love, was it all in vain? We always wanted money, now the money's not the same In a quiet moment at the theater I could feel your pain Deep inside the city, your memory remains Mary Boone, Mary Boone I'm on the dark side of your room Mary Boone, Mary Boone Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon Book of hours, Russian icons And sand mandalas and Natarajas And hex-sign barns, Ando churches And whirling dervishes, long exposures And these two tunnels go west and east Let me bring you my masterpiece You're the author of everything Use this voice and let it sing Mary Boone, Mary Boone I'm on the dark side of your room Mary Boone, Mary Boone Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon