Expatriot

You can keep my bicycle, all my records and tapes
Might seem sentimental or sound like sour grapes
Sell my clothes and furniture or give 'em to the Goodwill store
I’m goin' overseas I’m not comin' back anymore
Maybe it’s a little romantic for a middle-age man like me
I’m gonna be an expatriate just you wait and see
Livin' in a Garret in Paris a House-Boat in Amsterdam
Smokin' a beard, growin' a pipe, doin' the best I can
Like Gauguin I’m a gonna go to Tahiti, wait and see
Find a little brown skin girl to fall in love with me
For years and years you’re gonna wonder just where I’ve gone
Maybe when I’m eighty years old I’ll come back home
There’ll be parades and ceremonies
Retrospectives too
And that brown skin girl will be so sad
I came back to you
You can keep my bicycle, all my records and tapes