It's a chilly Florentine evening
Two men in Eden hats
Telling tales of the underground
And fishing for rats

Policemen armed with Uzis
Stand guard but they don't speak
Ain't seen no Michaelangelo
He'll be here next week

The girl in shoes with the crystal heels
Is chaperoned by her brother
They raise a glass of amber wine
Take pictures of each other

Of the policemen and the fountains
And the sickle and the hammer
And they hail their Uncle Romulus
With his walking cane and camera

She looked like someone's girlfriend
She looked like a dream
She looked as unlikely
As the people's limousine

Come and sit by me, girl
Before I breathe the breath out of you
Hush your mouth and cover your eyes
For I tell your father of you

He paid to have you painted
In the company of angels
Only to find you flirting here
With Chico Marx and perverted angles

She looked like someone's girlfriend
She looked like a dream
She looked as unlikely
As the people's limousine

The patron saint of television
Smiles down from the shelf
Romulus can't criticize
But he can't bless himself

He has a tin of pea green paint
And a big roll of black tape
To vandalize these obscenities
Then make his escape

She walked up to the nice policeman
And asked him for a match
He saw Romulus approaching
And slipped off the safety catch

Then cut down her uncle
He was painted red and green
Just as she was kidnapped
In the people's limousine

She looked like someone's girlfriend
She looked like a dream
She looked so unlikely
In the people's limousine