Friends of Friends

I don't wanna go

Down to fourteenth street

In old New York

I'd rather be home

But it's all the same

Crowded bars and planes

New Amsterdam and Old RichmondI just called, and your girlfriend's coming homeBut you've got friends that are new friends

And friends that are old friends

And friends lookin' outGot a cheap dress on

With a wrinkled sleeve

My hat and glove

My money please

Or we might just go

With a burnt black air

I'd rather be home

My president's thereWhen I call, you don't pick up anymoreBut I've got friends that are new friends

And friends that are old friends

And friends lookin' outWhen I call, you don't pick up anymoreBut I've got friends that are new friends

And friends that are old friends

And friends lookin' out