Santa Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe,
My woman needs it ev’ryday,
She promised this a-lad she’d stay,
She’s rollin’ up a lotta bread
To toss away.
She’s in Santa Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe
Now she’s opened up an old maid’s home,
She’s proud, but she needs to roam,
She’s gonna write herself a roadside poem,
About Santa Fe

Santa Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe.
Since I’m never gonna cease to roam.
I’m never, ever far from home,
But I’ll build a geodesic dome
And sail away.
Don’t feel bad.
No, no, no, no, don’t feel bad
It’s the best food I’ve ever had.
Makes me feel so glad
That she’s cooking in a homemade pad
She never caught a cold so bad
When I’m away.

Santa Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe.
My shrimp boat’s in the bay
I won’t have my nature this way,
And I’m leanin’ on the wheel each day
To drift away
From Santa Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa Fe.
My sister looks good at home,
She’s lickin’ on an ice cream cone,
She’s packin’ her big white comb,
What does it weigh?

Copyright © 1973 by Dwarf Music; renewed 2001 by Dwarf Music