Drops From The Faucet Lyrics - Griffith Nanci

The drops from the faucet like a nervous heart 

Beat on my porcelain sink a rhythm avant-garde 

I page through the phone book, reach for my fountain pen 

Is he coming in for the holidays to haunt me again 

I call up the Grand Central, "information please" 

Is that nickel line on time, "oh fine" 

It's a hair-do with a wave 

We both forgot and forgave last time 

A peddler of pots and pans down on Union Square 

Said City Hall wants us off the street 

There's no Christmas in the air 

Some high-brows were waiting 

Carnation bright lapels 

Their big cars line the curbs outside those grand hotels 

I passed a marquee, Third Avenue 

"Ramona" with Loretta Young and I swung myself around 

I headed uptown to the train 

So this is New Year's eve another year has passed 

We wait so patiently, still the car goes so fast 

I stand on this platform, wait for that basket of light 

And the sound of the whistle screaming out 

Like some hot trumpet in the night 

And as I'm waiting I wonder why and where 

And what went wrong 

But this song don't tell no lies 

It was just a quick good-bye 

Yeah