I'm on my way to Greenwich Village On my way to Greenwich Village Guitars, music, food and girls and stuff I'm on my way to Greenwich Village On my way to Greenwich Village Look out Greenwich Village, here I come I'm on my way to Greenwich Village On my way to Greenwich Village New School, old school, Amato Opera I'm on my way to Greenwich Village On my way to Greenwich Village Then go to lunch at Famous Ray's Pizza

Life is short for you and me If we lived in harmony It's definitely not a race Take all the time to give it a pace They're doing this all because I'm sick Of being pushed around and getting tricked I can't get around this shtick Not without my guitar pick Walking down the street of snow Some middle-schoolers won't leave me alone They're hurling snowballs at my face And they started to give chase I wished somebody would give them a lesson That snowballs to the public would be harassing They were throwing them mostly at me Not that I was big, but cause it's not my scene. In the arboretum my mom goes gazing I always try to keep her from glazing I always try to speed things along It's partially why I'm singing this song Nearly every time she says "Let's go" I always feel like I'm done with the flow But it turns out that Mom really means It's time to explore some more of the scene. Listen folks and you will hear The sad return of "Kilroy was here" Mom once told me this little story Back when the world was war-ie. A few days after, I went to the dump I didn't see anything but giant chunks Of rocks, but I did see some spray paint I thought why I should hesitate I wanted to give it a little test And did it on the stone wall-what a mess! On the wall read "Kilroy was here" But it looked more like that of a smear The days that followed, the dump had replaced The wall that I wrote on, just to clear up some space I must admit some of it was still there But hey, at least I don't give it the stare In my school, gym class is queasy Cause everyone treats it like a speakeasy Pardon my French, but they all said S*** and B**** and F*** and kinds like it. They always think they have a right To say what they want with no trouble to bite. Nobody is on my side Rural kids are not what I have in mind Why is father on my case? He feeds me new things in my haste Last night I got pasta and broccoli rabe He knows I do not like that shmob He treats it like he doesn't care No matter how many times I give him the stare I hate it when different foods mix and interfere Why not keep it separate so I don't start in fear. When I'm famous and fish with bait, I go to my pad and pick up my date. We sing a song or maybe two, The heck with it-let's go for a few. How long it is? I don't know. My girlfriend always goes with the flow. We go to the movies and take on the heat. We go to my pad beneath the street. You know I simply love my girl. I like to go and give her a whirl. We both have a happy heart, But I remember something and we quickly depart. To make some dinner, so happy to please Homemade lasagna with plenty of cheese. We both have a lovely time Mine is hers and hers is mine. This is my ode to my pros and cons Now enjoy the show cause I'll soon be gone All is calm and nicely quick Now I have my guitar pick