You the anti-hip You the anti-hype So seriously do you take your job You've created an entirely new type of attitude Probably snobbery, possibly virtue But I never knew So I left you Chicago You wanted the best for me Kind of like my friend Andy Who asked: "What are you going to do when you grow up? Won't you run out of music ideas? Aren't there only twelve notes?" Hey New York is my sanctuary Where the bankers are actors And the waiters all are stars It's a big celebration Oooh yeah We're all waiting on A nuclear bomb To blow us away Some of us would probably escape And found a new New York Maybe in Ohio Where dreams could still come true Not sure if I'll get away But I'll still plan my escape Pick up the few friends I have left In Harlem and the East Village Oh I forgot they already moved away They couldn't afford to live here
And they were tired of being scared every day Chorus Maybe I'll go home Where people are humble and strong And they get the best stuff Like Second City and Steppenwolf And maybe that's because they know the difference Between talent and attitude And there are rarely any breast implants Jenny McCarthy was our only one They're just wasted under winter coats When there's never any sun And the terrain doesn't change for thousands of miles New b**bs would be too big a change over too little time And at the end of the play As the actor leaves the stage An audience member with a compulsion to make everything the same Is bound to say: "But what do you do for your real job? "What do you do for your real job? That was really great but what do you do for your real job?" And that's when I think I'll stay in.... Chorus