| I was talkin' to Chuck in his Genghis Khan suit
|
| And his wizard’s hat
|
| He spoke of his movie and how he was makin'
|
| A new sound track
|
| And then we spoke of kids on the coast
|
| And different types of organic soap
|
| And the way suicides don’t need notes
|
| Then we spoke of Lorraine
|
| Always back to Lorraine
|
| I was speakin' to Phil who was given to pills
|
| And small racing cars
|
| He had given them up since his last crack-up
|
| Had carried him too far
|
| Then we spoke of movies and verse
|
| And the way an actress held her purse
|
| And the way life at times could get worse
|
| Then we spoke of Lorraine
|
| Always back to Lorraine
|
| Ah, she’s a wild child
|
| And nobody can get at her
|
| She’s a wild child
|
| Oh, and nobody can get to her
|
| Sleepin' out on the street
|
| Oh, livin' all alone
|
| Without a house or a home
|
| And then she asked you, please
|
| Hey, baby, can I have some spare change
|
| Oh, can I break your heart?
|
| She’s a wild child, she’s a wild child
|
| I was talkin' to Betty about her auditions
|
| How they made her ill
|
| But life is the theater, is certainly fraught
|
| With many spills and chills
|
| But she’d come down after some wine
|
| Which is what happens most of the time
|
| Then we sat and both spoke in rhymes
|
| Till we spoke of Lorraine
|
| Ah, always back to Lorraine
|
| I was talking to Ed who’d been reported dead
|
| By mutual friends
|
| He thought it was funny that I had no money
|
| To spend on him
|
| So we both shared a piece of sweet cheese
|
| And sang of our lives and our dreams
|
| And how things can come apart at the seams
|
| And we talk of Lorraine
|
| Always back to Lorraine
|
| She’s a wild child
|
| Oh, and nobody can get at her
|
| She’s a wild child
|
| Oh, and nobody can get to her
|
| Sleepin' out on the street
|
| Oh, livin' all alone
|
| Without a house or a home
|
| And then she asked you, «please
|
| Oh, baby, can I have some spare change
|
| Now can I break your heart?»
|
| She’s a wild child, she’s a wild child
|
| I was talking to Betty about her auditions
|
| How they made her ill
|
| The life of the theater is certainly fraught with many spills and chills
|
| But she comes down after some wine which is what happens most of the time
|
| Then we sat and both spoke in rhymes til we spoke of Lorraine
|
| It’s always back to Lorraine
|
| I was talking to Ed who’d been reported dead by a mutual friend
|
| He thought it was funny that I had no money to spend on him
|
| So we both shared a piece of sweet cheese
|
| And sang of our lives and our dreams
|
| And how things can fall apart at the seams
|
| Then we spoke of Lorrain
|
| It’s always back to Lorraine
|
| She’s a wild child, she’s a wild child
|
| Sleepin' out on the street
|
| Oh, livin' all alone
|
| Without a house or a home
|
| And then she asked you, «please
|
| Oh, baby, can I have some spare change
|
| Now can I break your heart?» |