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the days are long, please don't go
i can't trust myself to be alone
the sun beats down, my wrists burn on the stove
in this lonely '78 motorhome

i stay here alone inside
with the sunday dinner and the summer flies
motorcycles rev outside
from the backyard screen
i hear them drive off into the night

but i know

if i told him i'll die here if i stay
he would hold me in his arms
and he'd love it that way

sad teddy bears on the lawn outside
clean off the mud, hang them up out to dry
try to sleep to pass the time by
but the dogs in the yard
keep me up with their cries in the night

and i know

if i told him i'll die here if i stay
he would hold me in his arms
and he'd love it that way

the days are long, please don't go
i can't trust myself to be alone
it all goes dark, my bangs long overgrown
in this lonely '78 motorhome

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