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