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Santa Fe
Adam Pascal; Anthony Rapp; Wilson Jermaine Heredia; Jesse L. Martin
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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New York City (uh-huh)
Center of the universe (sing it, girl)
Times are shitty, but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse
(I hear that)
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
Now you're talkin'
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
Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Woah, oh, oh
You teach?
Yeah, I teach
Computer-age philosophy
But my students would rather watch TV
America!
(America!)
You're a sensitive aesthete
Brush the sauce onto the meat
You can make the menu sparkle with rhyme
You can drum a gentle drum
I can seat guests as they come
Chatting not about Heidegger, but wine
Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe (Santa Fe)
Our labors will reap financial gain (gain, gain, gain)
We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe (Santa Fe)
And save from devastation our brains (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)
We'll open up in Santa Fe
Forget this cold Bohemian hell
Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Woah, oh, oh
Woah, yeah, mmm
Do you know the way to Santa Fe?
Y'know, tumble weeds? Prairie dogs?
Yeah
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