Saturday at the Met lyrics

[DEB]
Here’s one thing you should know about me:
My sense of direction is irrefutable
It’s a trait
That’s so innate
That it’s absolutely indisputable
I always know which way is north
No matter where I go
So I don’t understand
Why I can’t find my way
Through the f*cking Metropolitan Museum!

I got an email, “Dear Deb
We should meet so I can
Give you back your book.”

Okay

Another email, “Dear Deb.”

[WARREN]
“Dear Deb.”

[DEB & WARREN]
“We should meet somewhere in public
So you won’t think I’m a crook.”
[WARREN]
“At the Met Museum
In room twenty-one
There’s a landscape by Monet
(You can’t miss it!)
So I’ll see you there at half past twelve
This coming Saturday.”

[DEB]
Okay, first of all:
Who doesn’t just say
“Let’s meet at Starbucks?”
The Met Museum is friggin immense
And secondly
The Met’s the only place
In New York City
Where the traffic patterns don’t make sense

Sure, they’ve got a map—
Oh, excuse me
A "plan," as they call it—
But it isn’t worth my spit
You’d be better off following bread crumbs
Through this godforsaken museum

[JASON]
Hey, come on, let’s go!
We’ve got a whole museum to visit
We should probably pick up on the pace
[CLAIRE]
Jason, we are at the Met
The thing that makes it special is
It takes a while to wander through the place

[JASON]
This says to skip this room...

[CLAIRE]
Shhh…

[JASON]
...turn left and zoom to the suits of armor

[CLAIRE]
This says that x-rays show
An entire other portrait on the canvas below
Isn’t that weird?
How it just...disappeared?

[DEB, spoken]
Excuse me, is that a Monet?

[CLAIRE, spoken]
That’s a Manet
[DEB, spoken]
Monet

[CLAIRE, spoken]
Manet

[DEB, spoken]
AAAGH!

[CLAIRE]
He wanted to come here
He loves it, I know
Look, he’s running ahead
Like a kid in a toy store
And me, I’m here
Watching him go
He likes the Masters
While I prefer wackier things
So, of course we wind up
In separate wings

I should go find him
Not leave him alone
But I don’t know, lately
When he’s right beside me
I’d rather be off on my own
I mean, maybe I’m crazy
But really, I think he’ll be fine
If he goes his own way
And I just go mine

[DEB, spoken]
Excuse me, I’m looking for gallery twenty-one?

[JASON, spoken]
I think this is Gallery K

[DEB, spoken]
K?

[JASON, spoken]
K

[DEB, spoken]
AAAAAGH!

[JASON]
So much for Saturday at the Met
I thought I’d find her here
In search of modern art, and yet—
I’m unimpressed by Klimt and Dali
It takes a sharper eye
To paint things like they’re supposed to be

Give me a portrait
Where a face is a face
Don’t give me theories
About "negative space"
Why would I care
About what isn’t there?
Except where
What isn’t there
Is Claire

I wish she’d look at this painting...

[CLAIRE]
Look at this painting…

[JASON]
Describe what she sees...

[CLAIRE]
How it swallows you up like a storm...

[JASON]
Is she moved by that column?

[CLAIRE]
Those orangey yellows...

[JASON]
Or maybe those trees?

[CLAIRE]
Still, keeping you warm...

[JASON]
Would she tell me she hates it?

[CLAIRE]
How everything shimmers red...

[JASON]
Or say something more?

[CLAIRE]
And carries you away...

[JASON]
Would it change our perspective
From the moment before?

[CLAIRE]
Why did we come here?
I’ll never know
It’s like the colors in this painting might get lost
If he came in to say "Hello..."

[JASON]
Hello

[CLAIRE]
Hello. Ready to go?

[JASON]
Oh. Ready. Let’s go

[DEB]
That stupid email
“Dear Deb...”
I don’t think I’m gonna ever find my book
I’ve been wandering around
For an hour
Or, well, twenty minutes
And I think this was a trick
I’ve been duped into spending my afternoon
In this awful
Crowded
Stupid
Ugly
Horrible
MUSEUM!!!

[WARREN, spoken]
You must be Deb!