The painted faces congregate In the mating season The second hopes They go alone In no rush to reason And there's a fountain And a scimitar Shaped yellow light That picks you up And cuts you down to size
The people there And the furniture Start to seem important And a whole lot more You catch the floor With a vivid and absorbant, sharpened arc Like the scimitar Shaped yellow light That picks you up And cuts you down to size
I had questions for the tap dancer Sat on my lap And she had child proof caps on her answers Stolen blower blow me a scone And show me that handsome enhancer She had a rock on her throttle And a brown glass bottle full of Shavings from the sun Although those shoes affect your step Don't forget whose legs you're on
There's a fountain and a scimitar Shaped yellow light And it picks you up And it cuts you down to size
Compositor: Alexander David Turner (PRS)Editor: EMI Music Publishing Ltd (PRS)ECAD verificado obra #5544689 em 26/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM