[ANGEL, COLLINS, MARK]
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