Ivory words, smoke and cinnamon. All you head boppers. You were talkin' so brave and so sweet. Buttery limbs, it's physical. They were somewhere in the middle of America, Santa Monica I think. In the first flush of youth. It's a youthquake. Stand back, make way. We've got lovers and lookers. And if he'd see it, he'd call it. It's not such a fancy place, get out as soon as you can. That was New York. And you'd ask, what do you know about dreams? And I'd reply, give me a bow on the back of my shoe. Walking the street in nothing but my Carven's. Urge to vacate. South of the border. It's time to pack up and go. Get out of town. Make a run for it. You're a fool for love and a fool for the sun. It's summer in Provence, Rio and on Oia. Get your plane right on time. They were daisy suede and built for summer. Fall hard and I'll fall harder. Fractured and slight but all the better for it. We've got spirit, yes we do. A top knot, chop it off, all short and sweet. You're free. It's a lifestyle brand, let's live the good life. The midriff, they said it was back. Madonna never took hers off. You hold no currency. No availabilities. Well here I am. And what's wrong with with not fancy? I can call you Betty. You were famous, your heart was a legend. Not driven by nostalgia, you're alright.
'You Can Call Me Al' Paul Simon
'The Only Living Boy In New York' Simon and Garfunkel
'Chelsea Hotel #2' Leonard Cohen