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Джон Прайн Джон ПрайнАмериканский певец и автор песен, работающий в жанрах кантри и фолк

Leave The Lights On

Feeling kind of bony

On the telephoney

Talking to Marconi

Eating Rice-a-Roni

Nominated for a Tony

For acting like a phoney

Watching Twilight Zoney

On my forty-two inch Sony

This is just a long song

It ain't no poem

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home



It's like sitting in the kitchen

When the music's really bitchin'

Your nose it starts to itchin'

As you count your old age pension

Did I forget to mention

The ride that I was hitchin'

To the Aluminum Convention

I had such good intention

Keep your cotton pickin' fingers off

My song poem

And leave the lights on till your baby gets home





Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Don't forget your toothbrush

Your hairbrush and your comb

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Got a big ol' dog

A chrome crowbar

I keep that mother humper in the back seat of my car





Me and Billy Shakespeare

Stepped out to get a root beer

We sat together so near

People thought we were queer

Punctuated by the big scare

We joined the Air Force right there

To defend our country first class

Who couldn't give a rat's ass

Don't you tell me that the White House is my home

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Don't forget your toothbrush

Your hairbrush and your comb

Leave the lights on till your baby gets home

Got a big ol' dog

A big iron bar

I keep that mother humper in the back seat of my car

It's like kissing Greta Garbo with a mouth full of marbles

Like trying to cash

Джон Прайн

Leave The Lights On / Джон Прайн

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