| Calls him daddy, calls him man
|
| Another girl that they call Britney
|
| Johnny sits and mans the phones
|
| From the corner, he’ll come get you
|
| She wakes in the cold gray dawn
|
| Football games they make me yawn
|
| Cellophane and stomach aches
|
| Pillow talk and perfume breaks
|
| A married man with an estate
|
| A hairdresser that swears he’s straight
|
| Her alimony is once a month
|
| She beats the kid, he plays the drums
|
| And oh, oh, oh, life goes by
|
| With your Mardi Gras high
|
| And your tenderloin low
|
| Second hand blues and money to blow
|
| When you get tired and arrested
|
| There’s something you should know
|
| At least he’s going home
|
| The undercover makes the bust
|
| But not before he gets a touch
|
| Good ones copy, great ones steal
|
| The rest of us we almost feel
|
| And oh, oh, oh, life goes by
|
| With your Mardi Gras high
|
| And your tenderloin low
|
| Second hand blues and money to blow
|
| When you get tired and arrested
|
| There’s somewhere you can go
|
| Between the blue and gold
|
| He’s gonna get a pension
|
| Eleven years go to
|
| The world’s oldest profession
|
| Ain’t never gonna fold
|
| With fortunes being told
|
| With your Mardi Gras high
|
| And your tenderloin low
|
| Second hand blues and money to blow
|
| When you get tired and arrested
|
| There’s something you should know
|
| You’re always in my soul |