Mary Boone

Painted white, new in town

You weren't hiring, but I was looking

In those days, my working days

Came in from Jersey, not from Brooklyn

Oh, my love, was it all in vain?

We always wanted money, now the money's not the same

In a quiet moment at the theater, I could hear the train

Deep inside the city, your memory remains

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

I'm on the dark side of your room

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon

Crooked crime, petty cop

Not on the street yet, but it was cooking

In those days, the burning days

The one from Queens, not from Brooklyn

Oh, my love, was it all in vain?

We always wanted money, now the money's not the same

In a quiet moment at the theater I could feel your pain

Deep inside the city, your memory remains

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

I'm on the dark side of your room

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon

Book of hours, Russian icons

And sand mandalas and Natarajas

And hex-sign barns, Ando churches

And whirling dervishes, long exposures

And these two tunnels go west and east

Let me bring you my masterpiece

You're the author of everything

Use this voice and let it sing

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

I'm on the dark side of your room

Mary Boone, Mary Boone

Well, I hope you feel like loving someone soon