| Let’s hear it for the modern skirts
|
| Hold it up until it hurts
|
| Whistle through the trees and split the brown money
|
| You’ll never pop the solid earth
|
| Smelling like a cowboy’s cots
|
| Wicked as a sailor’s notch she farts
|
| Weather me parn and hit the ground running
|
| You return to tease in vain
|
| For Jerry why don’t you try Mary
|
| Her feet are a wandering flame
|
| For Jerry ride the canary
|
| My feet are wandering again
|
| The Cadillac of winter
|
| Listen for the levels' click
|
| Watch it or it just might stick
|
| Whistle through my knees and hit a brown bunny
|
| Hiding in the neighbor’s crick
|
| They spell it out with rules and laws
|
| This neighborhood is where the cats' applause
|
| Weather me dawn hit the ground running
|
| You’re eaten to tease in vain
|
| For Jerry don’t you try Mary
|
| Her feet are a wandering flame
|
| For Jerry ride the canary
|
| Her feet are a wandering flame
|
| For Jerry ride the canary tonight
|
| I don’t like like what you like
|
| Lost in the stickers on the ice cream truck
|
| Your thoughts are what we took for granted
|
| Heart is denser than a hockey puck
|
| And rats in the pile on a tilted room
|
| And the walls are jagged and expanding
|
| But you aren’t there to feed them air
|
| Poor Jerry don’t you try Mary
|
| Her feet are a wandering flame
|
| For Jerry ride the canary tonight
|
| I know you want to get back |