Saturday at the Met Lyrics. From Musical "Ordinary Days"
|Browse by soundtrack||Find soundtrack||Browse by artist name|
|A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #||A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #|
Saturday at the Met Lyrics
by . From Ordinary Days.
Hereís one thing you should know about me.
My sense of direction is irrefutable
Itís a trait thatís so innate
That itís absolutely indisputable
I always know which way is north, no matter where I go.
So I donít understand why I canít find my way through the fucking Metropolitan Museum!
I got an email, ďDear Deb,
We should meet so I can give you back your book.Ē
Another email, ďDear Deb.Ē
DEB & WARREN
ďWe should meet somewhere in public so you wonít think Iím a crook.Ē
ďAt the Met museum in room twenty-one thereís a landscape by Monet
You canít miss it!
So Iíll see you there at half past twelve this coming Saturday.Ē
Okay, first of all.
Who doesnít just say, ďLetís meet at Starbucks.Ē
The Met museum is friggin immense.
And secondly, the Metís the only place in New York City
Where the traffic patterns donít make sense.
Sure, theyíve got a map, oh, excuse me, a plan, as they call it
But it isnít worth my spit.
Youíd be better off following bread crumbs
Through this godforsaken museum.
Hey, come on, letís go.
Weíve got a whole museum to visit.
We should probably pick up on the pace.
Jason, we are at the Met
The thing that makes it special is
It takes a while to wander through the place.
This says to skip this room.
Turn left and zoom to the suits of armor.
This says that x-rays show an entire other portrait on the canvas below.
Isnít that weird, how it just disappeared?
Excuse me, is that a Monet?
Thatís a Manet.
He wanted to come here
He loves it, I know
Look, heís running ahead like a kid in a toy store
And me, Iím here watching him go.
He likes the masters.
While I prefer wackier things.
So, of course we wind up in separate wings.
I should go find him
Not leave him alone
But I donít know, lately, when heís right beside me
Iíd rather be off on my own
I mean, maybe Iím crazy.
But really, I think heíll be fine
If he goes his own way
And I just go mine.
Excuse me, Iím looking for Gallery Twenty-One?
I think this is Gallery K.
So much for Saturday at the Met
I thought Iíd find her here
In search of modern art, and yet
Iím unimpressed by Clint and Dali
It takes a sharper eye
To paint things like theyíre supposed to be
Give me a portrait where a face is a face
Donít give me theories about negative space
Why would I care about what isnít there?
Except where what isnít there is Claire
I wish sheíd look at this painting
Look at this paintingÖ.
Describe what she sees
How it swallows you up like a storm.
Is she moved by that column?
Those orangey yellows
Or maybe those trees?
Still, keeping you warm
Would she tell me she hates it?
How everything shimmers red and carries you away
Or say something wrong?
Would it change our perspective
From the moment before?
Why did we come here?
Iíll never know.
Itís like the colors in this painting might get lost
If he came in to say hello.
Hello. Ready to go?
Oh, ready. Letís go.
That stupid email, ďDear Deb,Ē
I donít think Iím gonna ever find my book.
Iíve been wandering around for an hour
Or, well, twenty minutes.
And I think this was a trick.
Iíve been duped into spending my afternoon
In this awful, crowded, stupid, ugly, horrible museum.
You must be Deb!
[Thanks to Dana Jayne for lyrics]
|DMCA Policy | Add/correct lyrics | Request lyrics | Privacy | Contact us||© STLyrics.com 2002 -|