Is true love a trip to 
ChinatownOr being held in one's opium gaze
Under the peach trees
There I'll sit and wait
Is true love a long walk through 
Bryant park
Or being held in the month of 
MayUnder the peach trees, under the peach trees
Under the peach trees, there 
I will beWill be until you come and get me'
Cause I'm so tired of waiting in restaurants
Reading the critics and comics alone
With a waiter with a face made for currency
Like a coin in ancient 
RomeAnd I really do wish you were here next to me'
Cause I'm going to see 
James Dean
There I will be, under the peach trees
Under the peach trees, under, under
Under the peach trees with him