Drops From The Faucet - Lyrics - Nanci Griffith

(Frank Christian) 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 comin' in for the holidays to haunt me again? I call up 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 peddlar 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 lined the curbs outside those grand hotels I passed a marquee, Third Avenue "Ramona" with Loretta Young and I swung myself around And (headed) uptown to the train So this is New year's eve another year has passed We wait so patiently, (but) still they come and go so fast I stand on this platform, wait for that basket of light And the sound of the whistle screamin' out Like some hot trumpet in the night And ... as I'm waitin' 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