Please Don't Go

I once was a baby, lyin' in a cradle
My mother fed me from the kitchen table
I'm grown now, and the world sure has changed
It's diseased, a lot like me, and I'm getting on a train
She says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
She says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
"I love you more than you know."
I once had a lover. I made her my queen.
She had eyes that could tell no lies, made of ivory and green.
I was younger then, and my day was drawing near.
I stumbled in the doorway, and she whispered in my ear
She says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
She says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
"I love you more than you know."
And, oh, my father, he tried at raising me.
He drank away a life of pain, of pints of misery.
He's sober now, but I can't say the same.
I can hear his tone on the telephone, echoing in vain.
He says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
He says, "No, please don't go. Boy, I love you more than you know."
"I love you more than you know."