(Carly Simon). . Can you be private when the juice is sweet. And the secret is crimson. Can you be quiet when my hands are heat. And the riptide rises?.
(Carly Simon). . We lived up here in Cambridge. And browsed in the hippest newsstands. The we started our own newspaper. Gave the truth about Uncle Sam.
People say a lot when they want the job, yeah. Lining up sideways around the block. "It's not for the money" she say to you. Almost convincing herself that it's true.