Look at all

The pretty girls

Walk past

On a crowded city street

Where a lot of nothing

Happens fast

There's a million people talkin'

And I don't say a word

Not to me

Ee

They're all looking at the

Daily paper

All of them wearing at

A new dress

Cleaning up from crying

For death on a birthday

Don't worry about all my imperfections

All I am looking for

The perfect

Thing to say

So many other lonely days

That pass

On a crowded city street

Where a lot of nothing

Happens fast