This is the third of June, nineteen eight A unimportant day Some airplane gliding one of the bigger clouds over Manhattan In a downtown far away, Mr. Toomy, our in a crowd The city was and tired The wall street wearing their ties around their neck Like towels after a fight Mr. Toomy his pinstripe suit outside a barber shop at his face, took off his jacket and stepped on it
Who's that, what's that, what do you I'll never know where I my dream Who's that, what's that, gimme your of June, end of game
No looking to the No looking to the is a target, always on track Lenny is a target, shoots Lenny is a lost the route Ruins of a old fantasy of a child was Miami Lenny is a target, shoots Lenny is a target lost the
that, what's that, what do you mean I'll know when I lost my dream Who's that, what's that, gimme name Third of June, end of
Mr. Toomy stopped his pinstripe outside a barber shop at his face Took off his Put it on the on it And started preaching like a from another world After some minutes, he had a crowd Which disappeared when a police car by slowly rolling gloom And Mr. Toomy his voice 'til he was the only one in the area At this early night of June third, eighty eight
Who's that, what's that, what do you never know when I lost my dream Who's that, what's that, your name of June, end of game