Walking on air I'm walking on air
Left my stuff, hopped on the first bus to the middle of nowhere
Making sweet love I'm making sweet love
To a photograph of a woman in a coconut bra

She goes ah
Come on run to me, run to me
Ah
I got nowhere else to be

Happy new year, so far out here
I can almost touch the sun
I know most people they call it hell
I call it home
So happy near year

Living large I'm living large
I got a ten dollar hotel room, cheap bottle of suds
Making sweet love, yeah, I'm making sweet love
To the memory of the woman from New York city

She goes ah
Come on run to me, run to me
Ah
You're like a drug to me

Happy new year, so far out here
I can almost touch the sun
Now, most people they call it hell
I call it home
So happy new year

Sing along
Happy new year
The sun burned out a fiery crimson ray
Burn, burn, baby burn
When you ran I really rid my hand
So burn, burn, baby burn

So happy new year, so far out here
I can almost touch the sun
I know most people they call it hell, I call it home
So happy new year, sing along
Happy new year, ride along
Happy new year

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): CHRISTOPHER DREW, DENNIS CRAIG HERRING