Don’t Do It, My Dear

All your bags are packed
You’re ready to go
and here I am
I’m not saying, “So?”

Don’t
Don’t
Don’t do it, my dear

I’ve locked the door
I have your keys
And all I’m asking you
is “Stop” and “Please”

Don’t
Don’t
Don’t do it, my dear

Your gun is loaded
Your knife is sharp
But I hid the duct tape,
the shovel, and tarp

Don’t
Don’t
Don’t do it, my dear

Let’s call the cops together
It doesn’t have to be this way
They’ll get you the help you need
I hear prison has a nice buffet

Don’t
Don’t
Don’t do it, my dear

Don’t
Don’t
Don’t do it, my dear.

2017

Inspired by the beginning of “Leaving On A Jet Plane,” by John Denver – this is a song that kinda goes the other way a little bit. What if this all went haywire, the potential victim figures out a crazy murder plan before it happens and tries to talk the perpetrator out of the whole thing? Would that work? The end line is the giveaway. It probably wouldn’t. I mean, prison food is likely the grossest thing one could eat. I think actually this would be an interesting Americana/Bluegrass song. Alison Krauss could sing it with Robert Plant. Their harmonies rule. Call me Alison, let’s make this one happen!

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