we hate to see you go

Moonlight over the Kakuda residence

 There's a song they sing in Smoky Valley when you've overstayed your welcome:
We hate to see you go
We hate to see you go
What the hell you waiting for
We hate to see you go

Made the rounds bidding adieu to the friends who showed me so much aloha. (No, not those in the pickup truck—every resort knows the I-hate-tourists problem.)
And I'm en route back to snow land.

I got lei-ed