Bright Young Things

Lucy’s wearing vintage
Boy’s in a rented tux
Safety pins for cufflinks
Please dance with me
The party’s still in full swing
and you’re such a bright young thing

Nancy’s got her monkey
on a silver chain
Pose for Stephen’s camera
then dance with me
Forget what the future brings
Surrounded by bright young things

Sometimes a party’s
a port in a storm
No one is weary
or lost and forlorn

Listen, a nightingale sings
in Berkeley Square the bright young things
are flying on chemical wings
intent on their one-last-flings tonight

It’s time! It’s time!
It’s time! It’s time!

When I get you home
there’ll be sunlight on your bed
Close your eyes and drift off
imagining
the promise of a diamond ring
You the queen, and I your king

Sometimes a party’s
a port in a storm
You won’t feel weary
or lost or forlorn

Listen, a nightingale sings
in Berkeley Square the bright young things
are flying on chemical wings
Share with me one last fling tonight

It’s time! It’s time!