November 23rd, 2005



All my bags aren’t packed I'm not ready to go
I'm sittin' here on the fourth floor
I love to wake me up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn
Shooter’s waitin' he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so happy I could cry

So praise me and give money to me
Tell me that you'll pray for me
Oh so pleased to get out of the snow
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
I know when I'll be back again
Tuesday November Twenty Nine