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Happy New Year

Adam Pascal, Daphne Rubin-Vega and Anthony Rapp

English
How long till next year?

Three and half minutes

I'm giving up my vices
I'm going back, back to school
Eviction or not
This week's been so hot
That long as I've got you I know I'll be cool
I couldn't crack the love code, dear
'Til you made the lock on my heart explode
It's gonna be a happy new year
A happy new year

Coast is clear
You're supposed to be working
That's for midnight
Where are they?
There isn't much time

Maybe they're dressing
I mean what does one wear that's apropos
For a party, that's also a crime?

Chips, anyone?

You can take the girl out of Hicksville
But you can't take the Hicksville out of the girl

My riot got you on TV
I deserve a royalty

Be nice you two
Or no god awful champagne

Don't mind if I do
No luck?

Bolted plywood, padlocked with a chain
A total dead end

Just like my ex-girlfriend

Honey? I know you're there
Please pick up the phone
Are you okay?
It's not funny
It's not fair
How can I atone?
Are you okay?
I lose control but I can learn to behave
Give me one more chance, let me be your slave
I'll kiss your Doc Martens, let me kiss your Doc Martens
Your every wish I will obey

That might be okay
Down girl
Heel, stay
I did a bit of research
With my friends at legal aid
Technically, you're squatters
There's hope
But just in case

Rope

We can hoist a line

To the fire escape

And tie off at

That bench

I can't take them as chums

Start hoisting wench

I think I should be laughing
Yet I forget, forget how to begin
I'm feeling something inside
And yet I still can't decide
If I should hide or make a wide open grin
Last week I wanted just to disappear
My life was dust
But now it just may be a happy new year
A happy new year

Bond, James Bond

And Pussy Galore in person

Pussy, you came prepared

I was a boy scout once
And a brownie
Until some brat got scared

Aha! Moneypenny, my martini!

Will bad champagne do?

That's shaken, not stirred

Pussy, the bolts

Just say the word

Two minutes left to execute our plan

Where's everyone else?

Playing Spiderman

Ironic close up, tight
On the phone machine's red light
Once the Boho boys are gone
The power mysteriously comes on
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Written by: Jonathan D. Larson

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Rent [Original Broadway Cast Recording]

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