Head Home

by Ira Watson

Genre: Folk

Lyrics

You’ve got your best dress on,
A firm grip on my arm,
You say, “Babe, it’s almost one,”
I’m not ready to head home,
I’m not ready to head home

The taverns closed and all the folks
Are headed back where they belong,
But I’ll stay out until dawn
I’m not ready to head home,
I’m not ready to head home

She left a note on the wall
It said, “I love you, but please don’t call”

I’m down the street with a jar
sinking low into this bar
’cause I can’t stand those empty halls
I’m not ready to head home,
I’m not ready to head home,
I’m not ready to head home

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