This is the 3rd of June, 1988
  A highly unimportant day
  Some airplane gliding into one of the bigger clouds over Manhattan
  In a downtown far away, Mr. Toomy, our face in a crowd
  The city was slow and tired
  The Wall Street boys wearing their ties around their neck
  like boxer's towels after a fight
  Mr. Toomy stopped his pinstripe suit outside a barber shop
  Looked at his face, took off his jacket and stepped on it
    Who's that, what's that, what do you mean
  I'll never know where I lost my dream
  Who's that, what's that, gimme your name
  3rd of June, end of game
    No looking to the right
  No looking to the left
  Lenny is a target and always on track
  Lenny is a target and nobody shoots
  Lenny is a target lost the route
  Ruins of a child's old fantasy
  Ruins of a child was he or me (?)
  Lenny is a target and nobody shoots
  Lenny is a target lost the route
    Who's that, what's that, what do you mean
  I'll never know when I lost my dream
  Who's that, what's that, gimme your name
  3rd of June, end of game
    Mr. Toomy stopped his pinstripe suit outside a barber shop
  Looked at his face
  Took off his jacket
  Put it on the pavement
  Stepped on it
  And started preaching like a monk from another world
  After some minutes, he had a little crowd
  Which dissappeared when a police car passed by slowly
  Like rolling gloom
  And Mr. Toomy throws his voice 'til he was the only one in the area
  At this early night of June 3rd, 1988
    Who's that, what's that, what do you mean
  I'll never know when I lost my dream
  Who's that, what's that, gimme your name
  3rd of June, end of game