Get out of Town - Roland Kirk

Get out of town

Before

It’s too late my love

Get out of town

Be good to me please

Why wish me harm

Why not

Retire to a farm

And be contented

To charm

The birds

Off the trees

Just disappear

I care for you

Much too much

And when you’re near

Close to me dear

We touch too much

The thrill

When we meet

Is so bittersweet

That darling

It’s getting me down

So on

Your mark get set

Get out of town