Ship me Quickly I’ve got everything I’ve ever owned packed in these suitcase bags. All the old clothes, I’m sure you know my photo album of rags. Now Mama she’s inside, getting me my change for the bus, and Daddy’s bowing his head, saying “Do what you must.” It’s not as if I don’t already got enough on my mind, but suddenly I get this feeling I’m leaving something behind. For we’ve only a moment’s grace to steal a smile from a scared face, to show the strength that carries on: a moment of courage, then I’m gone. So baptize me slowly, cleanse me and hold me, for you know I haven’t the faith to see it through. Or just kiss me quickly, and ship me from this city, knowing the priest’s already exorcised me from you.