Mr. Walker It’s All Over Lynn Anderson

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I left Garden City, Kansas
With a ticket and a yen to see New York
I typed eighty words a minute
So your corporation let me go to work

I fetch paper clips and coffee
Even help you dodge your domineering wife
Mr. Walker, it's all over
I don't like the New York secretary's life

In this building there's a lotta guys
With old familiar thoughts upon their minds
That's a lot of hands a reaching out to grab
The things that I consider mine

And the president persues me
Even though he's old and his hair is turnin' white
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 subways wasn't far
But a trumpet player's upstairs
And below me there's a jumpin' all night bar

And to frost the bitter cake
I have to share the place with bugs and big ol' mice
Mr. Walker, it's all over
I don't like the New York secretary's life