Andy, it's me, haven't seen you in a while
I wished I talked to you more when you were alive
I thought you were self assured when you acted shy
Hello, it's me

I really miss you, I really miss your mind
I haven't heard ideas like that for such a long, long time
I loved to watch you draw and watch you paint
But when I saw you last, I turned away

When Billy Name was sick and locked up in his room
You asked me for some speed, I though it was for you
I'm sorry if I doubted your good heart
Things always seem to end before they start

Hello, it's me, it was a great gallery show
Your cow wallpaper and your floating silver pillows
I wish I paid more attention when they laughed at you
Hello, it's me

'Pop goes pop artist', the headline said
'Is shooting a put on, is Warhol really dead?'
You get less time for stealing a car
I remember thinking as I heard my own record in a bar

They really hated you, now all that's changed
But I have some resentments that can never be unmade
You hit me where it hurt, I didn't laugh
Your diaries are not a worthy epitaph

Well, now Andy, I guess we've got to go
I wish someway, somehow, you like this little show
I know this is late in coming but it's the only way I know
Hello, it's me, goodnight, Andy, goodbye, Andy