This isn’t the time or the place
For running away with my heart,
You promised that you’d take my hand,
But, I can’t play your big city part.
The producers they’re holding your skirt
And the DJ seems to like me pretty well;
They’re looking at your lovely brown hair
While it’s me you came here to sell.
You might have told me he wasn’t lookin’ for a farmer,
I would have told him to take a left and drive on thru
But this isn’t the time or the place love,
And I can’t play your big city blue.
I might promise that it all would be forgotten
I would have told him to take a left and drive on thru
But this isn’t the time or the place dear
And I can’t play your big city blue.
I was your lover way up on the farm
A country boy who wrote some songs and made you smile
Was I the cause of your hometown vacation,
Or…did you just want to get excited for awhile.
No, it isn’t the time or the place dear
For runnin’ away with my heart
I might promise that all would be forgotten
Still I can’t play your big city part.
(c) words and music, Marc D. Beaudin