歌词
ANGEL
New York City(MARK: Uh huh)
Center of the universe
COLLINS: Sing it girl
ANGEL: Times are shitty
But I'm pretty sure they can't get worse
MARK: I hear you
ANGEL
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're talking
Well, I'm thwarted by a metaphysic puzzle
And I'm sick of grading papers that I know
I'm shouting in my sleep, I need a muzzle
And 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
COLLINS: Oh-oh
ALL: Oh
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
I could seat guests as they come
Chatting not about Heidegger, but wine
Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
Our labors would reap financial gains
ALL: Gains, gains, gains
COLLINS
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe
And save from devastation our brains
HOMELESS: Save our brains
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
Forget this cold Bohemian hell
ALL
Oh
Oh
COLLINS
Do you know the way to Santa Fe?
You know, **********s...prairie dogs...
Yeah