Lori Lieberman

Well I ran out with my make-up half on
My right side looked healthy, my left side looked drawn
The bus driver counted his dollars in change
And I sang in the back to brush up on my range
“Come on,” I said, “You can do it after all-
You’ve got records in the stores and you’ve sung at Albert Hall
Well okay so you never got that big hit single
But you can try out for a Burger King jingle…”

I entered his room and it shined like the sun
From sparkling gold records and trophies he’d won
He motioned me towards a brown corduroy chair
And he looked like a shadow amid all the glare
Well I sight-read the song and my lips didn’t twitch
The words came out easy and I sang right on pitch
A far cry from a ballad, but I sang it with feeling
I sang it from my gut, I would have sung it kneeling

Have it your way
Have it your way

He stopped me midstream and was waiving his hand
And he said, “No, you don’t seem to understand-
Now who can you sound like- we don’t want an unknown
Ah, today’s been a bad dream”, he said with a groan
Well I sank in my chair as he walked ’round me annoyed
And my pride it was just melted all over his corduroy
A thousand apologies, a thousand so-longs, and
“By the way,” he said, “can I send you some of my songs?”

“Have it your way
Have it your way,” I said

I hid in Bergdorf Goodman’s
I ran in and out of Doubleday’s
Everyone I saw was in shades of grays
Drunks with their bottles, policemen in their police hats
Women in fur walking their fluffy white cats
Everyone had somewhere to be-
A Fifth Avenue apartment or a liquor store awning
Everyone had someone to be but me…

The bus driver winked and he sang out of tune
He aked too many questions and he answered too few
The people got on and off but I just sat there
Cause I gave myself up when I gave in my fare
And the painted man in the billboard blew smoke rings
Over Times Square…