I don’t know what you’ve been told,
but this is no place to grow old.
You’re a good girl; me, I’m not so good.
This is no movie; this is not Hollywood.
And if the ending can’t be happy
it can at least be somewhere else.
Babe, let’s save ourselves.
This town don’t make sense no more.
They’re gonna have to turn her out doors.
They’re gonna make up her face and change her clothes,
like she’s some painted hussy, some cut-rate ho.
And you know I’ve got a funny feeling
it’s not going to end well.
Babe, let’s save ourselves.
Everything will be just fine.
Babe, just cut me one more line.
Just one more night of living this way,
then we’ll burn up the darkness that divides the day.
This place has been plundered;
it’s got nothing left to sell.
Babe, let’s save ourselves.
It’s a fishing town; there’s no more fish in the sea.
It’s a lumber town; there’s no more goddamn trees.
This place has been plundered;
it’s got nothing left to sell.
Babe, let’s save ourselves.