When Joey first came the light seemed to rise

Thought it came in the night and left with her eyes

And I wish that her face would return once again

Just one day to remind me of Saturday's gain.



As I sit in her city in fog and in steam

Everything's blurred, for blurred is my dream

So I'll leave for my terrace and tea laced with rum

And wait for the day when Joey will come.



And come all the dreams that never did try

To live on a memory or float on a sigh

Together we'll sit in the Saturday rain

And dream of Joey or Mary Jane.