I'm waiting for my sandwich
Frank Sinatra's on the ra
sprouts and swiss on whole wheat
He was alive not so long ago
We think people like Sinatra live forever
I order coffee with one sugar
They leave us feeling blue
I spill the coffee on my dress
Offers me club soda and a dish towel
But the girls who come in here
Are not the kind of girls he wants to meet
Frank is singing soft and low
Polka dots and moonbeams,
Stuart's lost in daydreams
Still he builds that sandwich carefully
He adds tomato slices, free
I'd introduce him if I could
To someone in this neighborhood
like the women in Frank's movies.
He holds out for 50 and change,
and he's holding out for love
Sometimes I worry Stuart is deranged.
Cause every day the world comes
He waves me out the door,
but I descend the subway stairs.
And now the man beside me
Yes, it's an artist's voice
But right now she is not first choice
So I lean to listen in a little closer
As we travel underground,
Another New York afternoon
