Late Bloomer

When I turned 16, I was furious and restless
Got a Chelsea girl haircut and a plane ticket to Paris
I stayed there with a pansy, he had a studio in the seventh
Lost his lover to a sickness, I slept beside him in his bed
That's when I met Nancy, she was smoking on a gypsy
She had a ring in her nose and her eyes were changin' like mood stones

And she said, "Open up late bloomer
It'll make you smile
I can see that fire burning
In you, little child"

Nancy came from Boston, she got in trouble very often
'Cause her parents had forgotten her, she escaped over the pond
She was searching for the writer of a song that made her shiver
She listened over and over on her Walkman cassette

And she said, "Come with me late bloomer
For a little while
I wanna see that fire burning
In you, little child"

How could I resist her, I had longed for a big sister
And I wanted to kiss her, but I hadn't the nerve
We found the writer, he was just some kid from Boston
I was jealous as I watched him talking to her
But man was I astonished, he didn't look like no Adonis
But as Nancy had promised, he was heavy as lead

And he said, "Come with us late bloomer
For a little while
We wanna feel that fire burning
In you, little child"

Forgive me my candor, but I just had to have her
And at the time, I didn't mind sharing with him
We rode in silence, all the way back to the seventh
And I promised I'd write her, but I never did

And she said, "Au revoir, late bloomer
For a little while
You gotta keep that fire burning
In you, little child"