[ZOE'S DUST WAS] BLOWIN' IN THE WIND

with apologies to Bob Dylan and Joan Baez


How man-y Chelsea walls ought to WHAM! fall down
Before you call it a sham?
How man-y building-wide Stop Work Or-ders
Before Nick and Zoe sleep in the can?
And how man-y times will the Hotel Chelsea cry
Before some people finally understand?

Zoe's toxic dust, my friends, was blowin' in the wind.
Zoe's dust was blowin' in the wind.

Just how much longer can Bo-hemia exist
When all you hear is Me Me Me Me Meeeee?
And how many years must some people persist
If they're obviously unhappy at the Hotel Chels-ea?
Now, how many times will Nick and Zoe tell us lies,
And pretend that there ain't no duplicit-y?

Zoe's toxic dust is what was blowin' in the wind.  
Zoe's dust was blowin' in the wind. 
Yeah, Zoe's toxic dust is what was blowin' in the wind.
Zoe's dust was blowin' in the wind.

Now, how many mornings did Stanley rise & shine
To cement his rightful place in histor-y?
And exactly how much chutzpah must someone really have
To slander Stanley Bard post-humous-ly?
Whoa! And how long now until the chickens come to roost,
And people start to wish they'd heard our plea?

Zoe's dust, my friends, was blowin' in the wind.
Zoe's dust was blowin' in the wind.

222WEST23RD