"To Leave"

Maybe I could just stay with you. I'll miss the plane
if you and I were "we" again.
I'll phone home and say that "I'm not coming back."

And maybe my mother will cry hard.
I'll tell her that "I will be fine, Mom,
oh and tell Dad that I love him dearly as well."

"See I met this girl, she's nice and pretty too.
Her hair is blonde, her eyes are ocean blue,
and I can't seem to pull myself away."

Because I don't want to leave.
To leave.

"I know I'm poor I don't have my degree.
I'll get a job perhaps at KFC.
I'll learn the finer points of Colonel Sanders's secret recipe."

So darling dear, may I sleep on your floor
for a night, a week, or maybe more?
I'll stay out of sight, I won't leave a mess.
Don't kick me to the curb.

By the way, I'm working late again.
I should be home around half past ten.
Have fun tonight when you go to the club with all your Irish friends.

Because I don't want to leave.
To leave.