Chloë

Chloë is a borough socialist She insists there's not much more to it Than drinks with a certain element Of downtown art criticism I benefit more than I should admit From her unscrupulous therapist How Benzedrine supposed to address Your shoplifting is anybody's guess Chloë Chloë Please don't ever change That story that continues to persist How you could have dropped the cigarette On the trip your boyfriend's canoe flipped Doesn't lose your grip on me a bit She and I, we were inseparable 'Til Ma called my East Coast uncle to Ascertain the welfare of her son Howard said, "Mary, you'd better come" Chloë Her name is Chloë And he's talking awful strange But the more they abhor you The more I adore you I would but I can't My heart don't stand a chance Of even a glance Her soul is a pitch black expanse Summer ended on the balcony She put on Flight of the Valkyries At her 31st birthday party Took a leap into the Autumn leaves