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"