I guess he'd rather be in Colorado.
He'd rather spend his time out where the sky looks like a pearl after a rain.
Once again I see him walking, once again I hear him talking,
to the stars he makes, and asking them for bus fare.

I guess he'd rather be in Colorado.
He'd rather play his banjo in the morning when the moon is scarcely gone.
In the dawn the subway's coming, in the dawn I hear him humming,
some old song he wrote, of love in Boulder Canyon.

I guess he'd rather be in Colorado.
I guess he'd rather work out where the only thing you earn is what you spend.
In the end up in his office, in the end a quiet cough,
is all he has to show - he lives in New York City.

I guess he'd rather be in Colorado....