A man all alone Holds all the aces Doesn’t he? Doesn’t he? All the pretty people All the trendy places Who needs to come home To those same old embraces A man all alone Holds all the aces Doesn’t he? Doesn’t he? There’s that Pulitzer Prize I’ve been meaning to read Maybe work up my tennis Get that old college speed Sure, can’t you tell that’s just what I need Where do you go from love? Cheer the Jets and the Mets Like a good little fan Be the champ of the Hamptons In vodka and tan A laugh a minute According to plan Where do you go from love? Then there’s Regine’s And I’m a pretty mean dancer They say backgammon’s The game for me Good old freedom, ah yes That’s the answer I’ll drink to that In fact, so would she There’s the Bolshoi, there’s Sondheim The latest premiere Every season’s a festival City of cheer It’s just my ingratitude Showing I fear Where do you go from love? We’re closer I hear To Venus every year Where do you go … Where do you go from love?