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Artiste:
Rent
Titre:
Santa Fe
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(The Street) Angel: New York City -- Mark: Uh huh Angel: 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 And 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 Oh sunny Santa Fe would be nice Let's 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! (with homeless people in the shadows) 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 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 Forget this cold Bohemian hell Oh-- All: Oh-- Collins: Do you know the way to Santa Fe? You know, tumbleweeds...prairie dogs... Yeah