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"