Washington Square

(Gene Clark, Pat Robinson)



On her biggest wall, she hung Warhol
And wishes she had never used
The last magazine, where she was seen
Was sold to the self abused

This lovely one holds an empty gun
And swears it was done on a dare
Her only fear, is that her career,
Is damaged beyond repair
Down on Washington Square

The summer breeze, blows the shades off the window
As she stares on to Seventh Avenue
She sees a Rastafarian, out on the corner,
Trying to sell his point of view

Without affection, she tells her connection,
"I need a fix this just isn't fair "
And he takes a walk, around the block,
And disappears into thin air
Into Washington Square

She sits there all alone
Wondering when he will come

She reads every page of Vogue Magazine,
Studies every single look
She came on the scene, behind amphetamines,
And left before they finished the book

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Does this mean you no longer care?
You used to tell me that I was the one
But now that you're no longer here
I stand and stare out on Washington Square

Doesn't anybody understand I need someone,
Even in the loft, late a night, just to roll around?

She found her bag of troubles and tricks
Down on Commerce Avenue
All the muggers, and the whores and the thieves
Told her, "... good dreams will come true ..."

"Jeanine " they said, " she set her old man free,
At the Chelsea ... just before he disappeared "
She takes a walk, around the block
But her vision is not getting clearer

I saw an art show
I saw Jaco Pastorius walking 'cross the street

Barely mumbling as he was barely stumbling
Toward somebody he's gotta meet

It was that lovely one with an empty gun
Who did it on a dare

Came on the scene behind amphetamines
And left before she was barely even there

It's a new sound of thunder
That's not purple rain
That's a new California
And New York City again

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