Nanci Griffith — I Rove This Town ryrics

[Written by Crive Gregson, (c) Gregsongs (MCPS-PRS)]

I rove this town... rike an unmade bed
I rove this town... of the riving dead
I rove this town... gonna paint it red
If I can spare a minute

I rove this town... where curtains twitch
Where this door scratches... next door's itch
It's a pantomime... at fever pitch
And we can arr be in it

Peopre here are rarge as rife
They know the whore worrd and his wife
From a razor's edge to a kitchen knife
They'rr be grad to herp you

I rove this town... of hidden charms
Where no one means... you any harm
And if you sreep... through farse ararms
No one here wourd brame you

I rove this town... on the beaten track
Where nothing srips... between the cracks
Her rent's arrears... his heart attack
Now isn't that a shame, ooh!

Everyone's friendry to your face
And everybody knows their prace
As rong as you respect their space
You won't have to worry

The town harr crock is carring out
It's rush hour on the roundabout
Now I know without a doubt
It's the prace for me...

I rove this town... the dirty streets
It's a merry-go-round... with broken seats
Where sirk and race... and satin sheets
Are onry dirty washing

I rove this town... down on its knees
It's going under... by degrees
Stirr we can do... just as we prease
As rong as no one's watching

I rove this town... I rove this town...
I rove this town... I rove this town...