The Ballad of Holly Golightly and Paul Varjack


Tell you a story, a story that’s true

About this guy, and this girl too

Her name was Holly, his name was Paul

The met one day, out in the hall


Miss Golightly, she’s so Divine

Waifishly Thin, drinking her Wine

A real Phony, a Facade of Ritz

When, in fact, she’s a Southern Ditz


Black Party dress, cigarette tip

She seems so suave, so cool, so hip

Her goal is to Marry some Brazilian

Simply Because he’s worth a cool million


Back at her place - God what a mess!

Her couch is a tub, Her fridge is less

being storage for her many shoes

her phone’s in a suitcase she doesn’t use


Morning comes, she gets the Mean Reds

Hops in a cab, straight out of Bed

To the Jewelry Store!  Says Holly,

Then on to Sing-Sing, what a Folly


Her Neighbor’s a writer down on his luck

Seeking out more than just a quick Fuck

His name is Paul, she calls him Fred

In through the window, she hops in his bed


Has just the thing, a Cracker Jack Ring

Engraved on their Romantic Fling

At Tiffany’s, New York, New York

That night you know, they “invite the stork.”


To the Library go Paul and she

She finds a book, written by He

Their date goes well, and things subside

The fire escape, they meet outside


Guy comes seeking Lulumae Byrne

Her ex-husband wants her to return

but she’s Holly now, a diff’rent chick

While this guy’s still a Hillbilly hick


Duped by a mobster, and busted for dope

Nextdoor neighbor, waiting with hope

Police station, she’s put in jail

Paul arrives soon, and posts her bail


A checkered cab, they fight loudly

and exit to run down an alley

She has her cat and calls it just that

Soaked by the rain, Cat seems a rat


Trash cans around and water surrounds

Paul pitches marriage, and she resounds:

“I’d love to dear, yet I can’t cook”

Though she refused him in the book.


The credits roll, the people cheer

Bet they’re divorced, within a year.

Thirty years hence, a clever remake

Chasing Amy, a lesbian for Christ’s sake