Авторы: Harry Chapin
This phone's growing into my ear I made three hundred calls today, Though yours is the only voice that I wanna hear I got to make me a living someway. I know you hate me doing this You say I'm selling out, But how in the hell is a mad s'posed to live? Selling's what it's all about. Hello, Sir, I'm the Pocano Land Development Company, And I'm calling you with an offer of some land That you'll just have to see. A quarter-acre plot, that's what I've got for you Nineteen ninety-five, four hundred dollars down And just ten bucks a week It's two short hours from New York City, A Pocano Land Site green and pretty. There's lakes there, and trout streams, Mountain views, Country Dreams, Contry Dreams. We dreamed our dreams in college, girl Back then we thought we should, And we promised that we would save the world Way back then we thought we could. I know you love your teaching now, but I wish you'd understand, There aren't that many jobs around, I'm doing the best I can. Hello, Sir... I'm here with forty other guys Crowded in a room, Making a living selling the moon And rustic dreams in June. I used to hate the city now I'm dwelling in it, Used to love the country now I'm selling it. I'm doing well at it, That's the hell of it! I said that we would find a farm And live out on the land, It's strange how dreams come back at us In ways that we had never planned. Here I'm selling real estate And laughing at myself, If I can't have my country dream I'm gonna sell it out to somebody else! Darling, don't get mad at me I'm doing this for you, It's really not so sad to see we had Growing up to do. Please don't push me anymore It's gonna work out fine, I know I said I'd quit before But just give me a little more time.