I was looking for a rhyme for the New York times
When I sensed I was not alone
She said do you know how to spell audaciously
I could tell I was in luck
And so I forced a smile contrary to my style
And she looked into my eyes
She said do you want to go heaven
Or would you rather not be saved

Here comes my train
I'm on my way, will you not see
I don't need your sympathy
I won't read your poetry, oh sweetness please

So she took me back to her basement flat
Which was down on Charlotte Street
Though it was never my intention
We were not intense, not least because
Well if you must just take then I'm a piece of cake
That is what she said to me
And so I gave myself to her charity
Well at least that's how it seemed

Here comes my train
I'm on my way, what got into me
I don't need your sympathy
I won't read your poetry, oh bittersweets

I was looking for a rhyme for the New York times when I was distracted
Yes those were precious times together that we wasted
Now I'm working hard for my union card
I must believe in Charlotte Street
Though it was never my intention to stay so long
So long