곡 정보

New York City
Uh-huh
Center of the universe
Sing it, girl
Times ain't pretty
But I'm sure they can't get any worse
I hear ya
It's a comfort to know
When you're singing the hit-the-road blues
That anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be
A pleasure cruise

COLLINS
Now you are talkin'
Well, I'm thwarted by a metaphysic puzzle, hm
And I'm sick of grading papers, that I know
I'm shouting in my sleep, I need a muzzle
All this misery pays no salary, so

Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
Sunny Santa Fe would be nice
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
And leave this to the roaches and mice
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah, woah

ANGEL
You teach

COLLINS
I teach computer-age philosophy
But my students would rather watch TV

ANGEL
America

ALL
America

COLLINS
You're a sensitive aesthete
Brush the sauce onto the meat
You could make the menu sparkle with rhyme
You could drum a gentle drum
And I could seat guests as they come
Chatting not about Heidegger, but wine

COLLINS, COMPANY
Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
Aah, Santa Fe
Our labors will reap financial gains
Aah, gains, gains, gains
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
Aah, Santa Fe
And save from devastation our brains
Save our brains

ALL
We'll pack up all our junk and fly so far away
Devote ourselves to projects that sell
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
And quit this cold Bohemian hell
Oh, oh, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woo
Woah, woah

COLLINS
Do you know the way to Santa Fe
You know, tumbleweeds and prairie dogs
Yeah