| Heatwaves on the runway
|
| As the wheels set down
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| He takes his baggage off the carousel
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| He takes a taxi into town
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| Yellow schools of taxi fishes
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| Jonah in a ticking whale
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| Caught up at the light in the fishnet windows
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| Of Bloomingdale’s
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| Watching those high fashion girls
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| Skinny black models with Raven curls
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| Beauty parlor blonds with credit card eyes
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| Looking for the chic and the fancy
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| To buy
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| He opens up his suitcase
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| In the continental suite
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| And people thirty stories down
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| Look like colored currents in the street
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| A helicopter lands on the Pan Am roof
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| Like a dragonfly on a tomb
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| And business men in button downs
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| Press into conference rooms
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| Battalions of paper-minded males
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| Talking commodities and sales
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| While at home their paper wives
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| And paper kids
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| Paper the walls to keep their gut reactions hid
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| Yellow checkers for the kitchen
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| Climbing ivy for the bath
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| She is lost in House and Gardens
|
| He’s caught up in Chief of Staff
|
| He drifts off into the memory
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| Of the way she looked in school
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| With her body oiled and shining
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| At the public swimming pool
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| The more I’m with you, pretty baby
|
| The more I feel my love increase
|
| I’m building all my dreams around you
|
| Our happiness will never cease
|
| Cause nothing’s any good without you
|
| Baby you’re my centerpiece
|
| We’ll find a house and garden somewhere
|
| Along a country road a piece
|
| A little cottage on the outskirts
|
| Where we can really find release
|
| Cause nothing’s any good without you
|
| Baby you’re my centerpiece
|
| Shining hair and shining skin
|
| Shining as she reeled him in
|
| To tell him like she did today
|
| Just what he could do with Harry’s House
|
| And Harry’s take home pay |