Pillow Talk

de André Previn

when i was two years old
in my mother's arms
on the malibu bus number three
a holy man laid his hand on my head
and said i see i see i see
this here child
she's got two diff'rent eyes
one is dark and one is light
one looks out at the morning
one looks in at the night
some see smiles or some see tears
some see sun or some see rain
but the child who sees both at once
is the child who is destined for pain

i was just two at the time
but i remember him well
when i am lost and lonely
i look for him in religious books
to find his face again
to find his face again
perhaps i will some time
he was hungry
and asked for a quarter
he was so hungry
and asked for a quarter
my mother gave him a dime
he blessed her generous contribution
and then he headed for the door
and he said i got to transfer now
to the bus
the bus number four

i been down to the depot
to look for number four
the station master shook his head
and said four don't run no more no more no more

i ride the malibu bus almost every day
but no one's seen or heard of him
no one's seen or heard of him
(my mother died last may)
he had the nicest smile
just like a silver star
it lit up malibu bus number three
but i don't have two diff'rent eyes
as far as i can see
the right one looks with the body
the left one sees with the soul
that was the very last thing
i heard him say
before he took his transfer
and was on his way
he crossed the road to number four
but number four didn't run any more
i don't understand
sometimes i think he was yellow
sometimes i think he was tan
and sometimes i think he was a woman
a woman dressed as a man
and though he was old and ancient
and i was less than three
would you laugh
if i should mention
sometimes
i think
he was me