Get Me Out Of Here

Get me out of here
Somebody take me home
Get me out of here
I want to be alone

Have you seen my friends?
They're the children dressed like men
They like drink until they're primed
Then they run downtown, leaving me behind
In a smoke filled room full of cross-eyed girls
Who run their hands through banana curls
Synthesizers go bang and screech
And a voice keeps telling me

Get me out of here
Somebody take me home
Get me out of here
I want to be alone

Rites of spring
They used to be such a wonderful thing
All I ever see
Is D-I-V-O-R-C-E
In a smoke filled room full of perfumed gals
You talk so loud that it shakes the walls
Then shake hands with a glass of beer
Can you get me out of here?

Get me out of here
Somebody take me home
Get me out of here
I want to be alone, alone, alone

We're in a smoke filled room full of cross-eyed girls
Who run their hands through banana curls
Synthesizers go bang and screech
And a voice keeps telling me

Get me out of here
Somebody take me home
Get me out of here
I want to be alone

Get me out of here
O-U-T, out
Get me out of here
I want to be alone
Copyright © 1995-2019 Pat McCurdy • All rights reserved