| I’m climbing up your old staircase
|
| And finding where you’re ticklish
|
| I clean you out of my fingernails
|
| And paw you out of my dish
|
| And in the doughy face days end
|
| Once I licked your plate clean
|
| You mutter on about infinity
|
| I’m gonna show you what it means
|
| Like a pretty girl in a wheelchair
|
| That still claims she fell down the stairs
|
| But if he touches you again
|
| With those grubby little hands
|
| I’ll have to break them
|
| Like some lovely legs in braces
|
| With toothy smiley faces
|
| But if he gets chopped up to bits
|
| Must have been an accident
|
| Must be a reason, don’t need a reason
|
| ‘Cause I know where you live
|
| And I know where you sleep
|
| Will be cradle to the grave
|
| Cradle to the grave you’ll behave
|
| And when I fall in your Christmas tree
|
| The dinner party reveals
|
| me robin egg blue and livery red
|
| I hate to spoil your meal
|
| But when I stop the good times rolling
|
| With my hot breath in your ear
|
| You know daddy loves you all so very much, yeah
|
| But daddy may be going away for a while, my dear
|
| Like a pretty girl in a wheelchair
|
| That still claims she fell down the stairs
|
| But if he paws on you again
|
| With those hungry little hands
|
| Might have to bait him
|
| Like some gorgeous girl in bedlam
|
| There’s something you’re not saying
|
| So won’t it feel good to admit
|
| This isolated incident
|
| Don’t need a reason, I need a reason
|
| I come home right on time
|
| Calmly loosen my necktie
|
| We stare at the wall watch
|
| We’re moving the furniture around
|
| I come home first in line
|
| Wanna loosen my necktie
|
| But it’s your world we live in
|
| We’re moving the furniture around
|
| Spend the next forty years moving the thermostat around
|
| Spend the next forty years moving the thermostat around
|
| Spend the next forty years moving the thermostat around
|
| Spend the next forty years moving the thermostat around |