You Don't Have To Go

Whoa, baby

You don't have to go

Oh, baby

You don't have to go

I'm gonna pack up, darling

Down the road I go

Well I give you all my money

Then you go downtown

And you get back in the evening

And call me all kind of clown

Oh, baby

You don't have to go

I'm gonna pack up, darling

Down the road I go

Whoa, baby

Honey, what's wrong with you?

Oh, baby

Honey, what's wrong with you?

Well you don't treat me, darling

Like you used to do