5/4/08
They say, Taylor was a good girl Never want to be late Complain, express ideas in her brain Working on the night shift Passing out the tickets You're gonna have to pay her, if you wanna park here Well, mommy's little dancer has quite a little secret Working on the streets now, never gonna keep it It's quite an imposition and now she's only wishing That she would have listened to the words they said Poor Taylor She just wanders around, unaffected by The winter winds yeah, and she'll pretend that She's somewhere else, so far and clear About two thousand miles from here Well, Peter Patrick pitter-patters on the window The sunny silhouette won't let him in Poor old Pete's got nothing, cause he's been falling Somehow, Sunny knows just where he's been He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul Now that Saturday's gone Sometimes he thinks that he's on his way But I can see that his brake lights are on He just wanders around, unaffected by the Winter winds, and he'll pretend that He's somewhere else, so far and clear About two thousand miles from here Such a tough enchilada filled up with nada Givin what ya gotta give to get a dollar bill Used to be a lovely chicken times have been a tickin Now she's finger lickin to the man, with the money in his pocket flying in his rocket only stopping by on his way to a better world If Taylor finds a better world Then Taylor's gonna run way...
strummed the guitar at 8:37 PM
