| Rosie sits inside a bar smoking a large man’s cigar
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| In a place called «Sammy's» on Amsterdam Avenue
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| She doesn’t look a day over 65, though she’s really 29
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| She likes records from the '60s
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| They remind her of the good old times
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| And after some wine and some scotch
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| Rosie starts to let it hang out
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| She throws a glass at the mirror and asks Big Max for a pen
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| She writes a letter to the Vatican
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| «I'm gonna write a letter to Him:
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| Dear Pope, send me some soap and a bottle of Bombay gin»
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| A letter to the Vatican
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| «I'm gonna write a letter to Him:
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| Dear Pope, send me some hope or a rope to do me in»
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| And no one stops her
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| We all lend a hand
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| We all knew her before she was this mad
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| We just hold her until the shaking stops
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| Because the heart says only what the heart knows
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| «I wanna hear some Diana Ross
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| I wanna hear a little bit of Marvin Gaye
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| I wanna hear a song that reminds me of a better day»
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| Rosie slaps a pretty girl in the mouth
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| And running to the jukebox she tries to put a quarter in
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| She says, «I've had enough of you men
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| And I’ll never say yes again; |
| it’s holiness or nothing
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| For me in this life…»
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| She writes a letter to the Vatican
|
| «I'm gonna write a letter to Him:
|
| Dear Pope, send me some soap and a bottle of Bombay gin»
|
| A letter to the Vatican
|
| «I'm gonna write a letter to Him:
|
| Dear Pope, send me some hope or a rope to do me in»
|
| And no one stops her
|
| We all lend a hand
|
| We all knew her before she was this mad
|
| We just hold her until the shaking stops
|
| Because the heart says only what the heart knows |