Never Coming Home - Eric Andersen

You can’t buy me, baby, with your silver\nYou can’t buy me, baby, with your gold\nAnd I don’t care if your daddy’s rich and famous\nBaby, I ain’t never, ever comin' home\nNow, If my parents ask you where I’m goin'\nThen tell 'em that I come out here to the West Country\nAnd if you get worried and think I need your high-tone advice\nWell listen, baby, please don’t talk to me\n'Cause you wrote me a letter, and you told me that I was crazy\nDidn’t even have 'nuff schoolin' to be a bum\nLet me tell you there’s a highway for the askin'\nYou can bet your bottom dollar that I want some\nOh, you can’t buy me, baby, with your silver\nYou can’t buy me, baby, with your gold\nAnd I don’t care if your daddy’s rich and famous\nBaby, I ain’t never, ever comin' home\nAs long as I got my guitar in my hand\nLong as my pretty lady’s right by my side\nAnd I don’t want your big black Cadillac comin' 'round my door\n'Cause there’s plenty of fast freight trains that I’d rather ride\nLet me tell you 'bout my first friend, he’s in jail\nSecond friend is married as he can be\nAnd the third friend he’s on bail\nSo let me tell you, gal, that I wanna be free\nYou can’t buy me, baby, with your silver\nAnd you can’t buy me, baby, with your gold\nI don’t care if your daddy is rich and famous, and he is\n'Cause, baby, I ain’t never, ever comin' home