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Lorraine Feather - You're Outta Here (based on "The Minor Drag") | Текст песни

You’re more than a minor drag……
Now the clock on the wall says 11:30
Give a minute or two
When the little and the big hand meet at 12
I want to see the last of you
I know I said I loved you, but tonight, my honey dear
Three other words are on my mind:
You’re outa here
Take your books and your bike and your Barcalounger
Leave the table and chairs
Keep your big mouth shut or I’ll tell you what
You’re gonna feel your butt bounce down the stairs
No time for explanations or one more German beer
Put down the chips and read my lips:
You’re outa here
Go, damn you, go
None of your crying
No reminders of the tender kiss
You won’t be supplying
Book the Plaza, sleep in the park, or
Ring up that blonde cashier
Stay wherever you want to
You’re outa here
You never will back down
Your favorite pastime is to nag me
You bully and you bluster
Like some would-be Jimmy Cagney
My sweaters are too small
My 501s are far too baggy
It bugs me, it bugs me
I’ve got to set you free
Tick-tock, tick-tock
That’s yours, that’s mine
Keep an eye on the clock
Leave this, take that,
Wait, that was mine – oh well it’s fine
Don’t stop, don’t stop
Oo-wee, you look ready to me, so
Call a cab, that’s that
Close the door, don’t step on the cat
It’s not the way you got next to me
Just to borrow my car
The little things you do and say


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