I left Garden City, Kansas
with a ticket and a yen to see New York.
I type 80 words a minute,
so your corporation let me go to work.
I bring paperclips and coffee,
even help you dodge a domineering wife
But Mr. Walker, it's all over,
I don't like the New York secretary's life
In this building there's a crowd of guys
with old familiar thoughts
up on their minds
And that's a lot of hands reachin' out
to grab the things that I consider mine
And the president pursues me
even though he's old
and a hair a -turnin' white
But Mr. Walker, it's all over,
I don't like the New York
secretary's life
There's a flat in Greenwich Village
that I took
because the subway wasn't far
But a trumpet player's upstairs
and below me
there's a jump and a whole night bar
And to frost a bit of cake
I have to share the place with
bugs and big old mice
Oh, Mr. Walker, it's all over,
I don't like the New York
secretary's life
Your sweetheart in personnel said
I should give her written notice like the rest
I wrote goodbye with my brightest lipstick
right across her big expensive desk
You'd better call the times and tell them
Put your wanted ad right
back in classified
Cause, Mr. Walker, it's all over
I don't like the New York
secretary's life
There's a greyhound at the station
And a mom at her home
with a welcome arms for me.
Garden City's looking better
every minute now
since I have learned to see.
And the boy next door don't know it,
but come June he's gonna
gain himself a wife.
Oh, Mr. Walker, it's all over,
I don't like the New York
secretary's life
Mr. Walker, it's all over,
I don't like the New York secretary's life