So Long Mrs. Smith

So long, Mrs. Smith
This spring I think that I should go
I have had enough of this
And this place ain’t what it was before
When I was young, nine thirty was late enough
And the sky was angel dust
A dead-top trio of criminal saints
To worship at Wong’s
Would you say that we were wrong?
Would you say that we were wrong?
So long, Mrs. Smith
This spring I think that I should go
And I have had enough of this
I’m going down to Edison