Man On The Run

Описание: Man on the Run
Lyrics and Music: Jess Guim

He came from London rain and tea,
To New York City degree,
Books in hand, dreams in sight,
Studying hard from morn till night.

But every day at half past one,
He’d chase chow mein and dumpling fun,
Campus lights and Chinatown sun,
That’s where it all began…

He’d swipe his card, he’d sign his name,
Then see that little tipping game.
“Eighteen percent?” Oh what a stun!

Man on the run, run, run,
Man on the run, run, run,
Paid the bill but the tip’s not done.
Man on the run!

Man on the run, run, run,
Through Canal Street in the sun,
“Sir! Sir! Eighteen percent!”
Man on the run!

“In England, mate, we don’t do that,
No tip attack, no social spat,
It’s built inside, it’s understood.
No chasing through the neighborhood!”

But here in N-Y-C- land,
The receipt awaits his trembling hand,
Tiny boxes, bold and grand,
18… 20… 25 so grand…

He signs real quick, avoids the stare,
Grabs his coat—there’s tension in the air.
Door swings wide, he’s gone again!

Man on the run, run, run,
Down Mott Street having fun,
Egg rolls shaking in the sun.
Man on the run!

Man on the run, run, run,
Past the dragon and the bun,
“Hey my friend! The tip! The one!”
Man on the run!

Run to Broadway,
Run to Soho,
Run to subway,
“No, no, no!”

Spring rolls flying,
Fortune cookies crying,
Waiters multiplying.
He keeps on trying!

Man on the run, run, run,
From Chinatown to Midtown,
“Sir! Sir! You forgot something!”
Man on the run!

Man on the run, run, run,
College boy from London town,
Next time he’ll just cook at home.
Man on the run… run… run…