E-

lope

with

me

Miss

Pri-

vate

and

we'll

sail

a-

round

the

world

I

will

be

your

Fer-

di-

nand

and

you

my

way-

ward

girl

How

ma-

ny

nights

of

talk-

ing

in

ho-

tel

rooms

can

you

take?

How

ma-

ny

nights

of

limp-

ing

round

on

pa-

gan

ho-

li-

days?

Oh

e-

lo-

pe

with

me

in

pri-

vate

and

we'll

set

some-

thing

a-

blaze

A

trail

for

the

de-

vil

to

e-

ra-

se

San

Fran-

cis-

co's

call-

ing

us,

the

Giants

and

Mets

will

play

Pi-

az-

za,

New

York

cat-

cher,

are

you

straight

or

are

you

gay?

We

hung

a-

bout

the

sta-

di-

um,

we've

got

no

place

to

stay

We

hung

a-

bout

the

Ten-

der-

lo-

in

and

ten-

der-

ly

you

tell

A-

bout

the

sad-

dest

book

you

e-

ver

read,

it

al-

ways

makes

you

cry

The

sta-

tue's

cry-

ing

too

and

well

he

may

I

love

you

I've

a

drow-

ning

grip

on

your

a-

do-

ring

face

I

love

you,

my

res-

pon-

si-

bi-

li-

ty

has

found

a

place

be-

side

you

And

strong

war-

nings

in

the

gui-

se

of

gent-

le

words

Come

wave

u-

pon

me

from

the

fami-

ly

wi-

der

net

ab-

surd

"You'll

take

care

of

her,

I

know

it,

you

will

do

a

bet-

ter

job"

May-

be,

but

not

what

she

de-

ser-

ves

E-

lope

with

me

Miss

Pri-

vate

and

we'll

drink

our-

selves

a-

wake

We'll

taste

the

cof-

fee

hou-

ses

and

a-

ward

cer-

ti-

fi-

cates

A

pri-

vy

seal

to

keep

the

feel

of

nine-

teen

six-

ty

style

We'll

com-

ment

on

the

de-

cor

and

we'll

help

the

pas-

ser

by

And

at

dusk

when

work

is

o-

ver

we'll

con-

ti-

nue

the

de-

bate

In

a

bor-

rowed

bed-

room

vir-

gi-

nal

and

spare

The

cat-

cher

hits

for

three

eigh-

teen

and

cat-

ches

eve-

ry

day

The

pit-

cher

puts

re-

li-

gion

first

and

rests

on

ho-

li-

days

He

goes

in-

to

ca-

the-

drals

and

lies

pros-

trate

on

the

floor

He

knows

the

drink

af-

fects

his

speed

he's

pray-

ing

for

a

door-

way

Back

in-

to

the

life

he

wants

and

the

con-

fes-

sion

of

the

bench

Life

out-

side

the

dia-

mond

is

a

wrench

I

wish

that

you

were

here

with

me

to

pa-

ss

the

dull

week-

end

I

know

it

woul-

dn't

come

to

love,

my

he-

ro-

ine

pre-

tend

A

la-

dy

step-

ping

from

the

songs

we

love

un-

til

this

day

You'd

set-

tle

for

an

e-

pi-

taph

like

"Walk

A-

way,

Re-

nee"

The

sun

u-

po-

n

the

roof

in

win-

ter

will

draw

you

out

like

a

flower

Meet

you

at

the

sta-

tue

in

an

hou-

r

Meet

you

at

the

sta-

tue

in

an

hour