Frank Mills

I met a boy called Frank Mills

On September, twelfth, right here

In front of the Waverly

But unfortunately I lost his address

He was last seen with his friend

A drummer, he resembles George Harrison of the Beatles

And he wears his hair

Tied in a small bow at the back

I love him but it embarrasses me

To walk down the street with him

He lives in Brooklyn somewhere

And wears this white crash helmet

He has golden chains on his leather jacket

And on the back are written the names

Mary and Mom

And Hell's Angels

I would gratefully

Appreciate it if you see him, tell him

I'm in the park with my girlfriend

And please

Tell him Angela and I

Don't want the two dollars back

Just him!