GOODBYE ISABEL 

In her heart I think she'd like me dead. 
Second best she sleeps with me instead. 
I gave her all her books and records back, 
Roy Orbison, Burt Bacharach and Kerouac in paperback, 
West Side Story soundtrack. 
The wind blew off the mountain all night long. 
I sat up till daybreak working on this song.. 
And then I turned and saw her standing there 
in pale blue silk underwear, a butterfly in her hair...
I said yeah...I said yeah..... 
She said I spoiled the silence in her dream.. 
But it was like the silence that follows a scream.
So shoulders hunched against the sleet, 
She moves on down Jamaica Street with no word of farewell... 
Aww, hell...goodbye then, Isabel...