All the cities in the world
And so very little time
And so many different girls
All you have to do is find them
There's a wealth of opportunity
Plan your trips accordingly
A pity but the pretty ones
Are usually more touristy
Say, how'd you like to run away from these machines?
Everywhere the spies are printing out your dreams
Seven stops in seven different countries
Seven-page itineraries
Memories thick as Bloody Marys, Jesus Joseph bloody hell
Right now we're here in Boston
In love with downtown crossing
New York will still be there in the morning
Come back to bed, my darling
Four years thrown away on vows we never kept
Forty-five minutes each day religiously devoted to regret
Time we could have spent on medication, thrown away on education
And we planned to take a trip to Scotland, but we never made it
How'd you like to run away from these machines?
I had Julians and Steves
You had Julias and Jeanettes
You wear your terror on your sleeve for all the men I haven't met (yet)
I had Oliver in Potsdam, you had Elanor in Amsterdam
We're keeping track so carefully, we've missed the state we're in completely
Honestly, your foot is out the door, and I've got scores of offers elsewhere
And keep both feet firmly planted in the air
And tomorrow you can totally erase me from your memory, but trust me, everything is fine
Because
Right now we're here in Boston
In my apartment in the South End
Forget your year in London
Come back to bed, my darling
You can put the details in a letter
The more embarrassing, the better
Right now I can be happy if I choose to
I know that in the morning I'll lose you
And maybe you'll go mad
And maybe I'll go gray
And pack up to Berlin
Or maybe it won't matter anyway
We'll find out that your mom was right and you'll admit you're really gay
And maybe I'll wake up
In a city far away
Or maybe we'll make up
And buy a house and have a couple kids and Labrador and microwave
But anyway
Right now we're here in Boston
In Eden where you almost pulled your pants down
Don't worry who these jokes will all be lost on
Come back to bed, my darling
There is nothing in the world that we can count on
Even that we will wake up is an assumption
But I know for a fact that I loved someone
And for about a year he lived in Boston...
