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    Happy Clown Bad Dub 8 / Fun EP 2006 ©

    Spaghetti Strapped

    Hey Girl
    What you lookin' like?
    I have seen you get up, and go to that bathroom
    Like five or six times in the last twenty minutes
    What the hell's going on?

    Under the great wide gray sky
    Still the same guy watching the paint dry
    With bloodshot snake eyes
    My lady still hates me like you know she should
    Because the simple things in life don't get overlooked
    But now I'm here with a glass full of beer
    Positioned in my chair to watch your ass from a mirror
    Hungover and horny, dirty old man
    Weed junky drunk leaving tips for the dope man
    I'll impress her with my jukebox selections
    Spit a couple words in exchange for affection
    And if those legs work as good as they look girl
    You can walk up and down the page in my book
    Can you spell secret?
    Come get your feet wet
    Let me make up pet names for all your little regrets
    (Here let me buy you a drink as a token of my erection)
    Hoping that you'll open up and put down your weapons

    Up, up, girl let your strap down, put your strap down
    Up, up, girl put your strap down

    Spaghetti strapped, another lap around the track
    I had to suffer punching onto somebody's back
    What's up with that?
    Where's the independence?
    Find the dotted line between acquainted with and friendship
    But damn got head rushed, can't stop
    What's the big fuss it was just a little hand job
    So what if her friend took off her bra and socks and drawers
    It was like a massage-a-trois
    Why the witnesses always positioned up in your business
    Like they're invested in your best interests
    Who I be with, and who I leave with
    Affects this vicarious life that the weak live
    Guess now the pressure's on me to charm you
    Relieve you of your weapon, disarm you
    See if I can get you off this barstool
    We all wanna know if I can get you out your clothes girl

    From the star-fuckers to the hard lovers
    Passing judgment on none
    Everyone's got scars mother
    Some of them will never heal
    Sometimes you gotta step aside; you wanna see how the weather feels
    You can't avoid them or fill a void with 'em
    If you're nuts you'll enjoy trying to make him your boyfriend
    I'm like a pile of paper and ribbons the day after Christmas
    (Naw, naw for real I will take my clothes off right here girl)
    Who wants to help me, I'm looking for a muse
    This time around I'm trying to cook up the blues
    Let's make a little love, a little hate
    A little give and take and give it to the kids that can relate
    And we don't even have a choice
    It's the balance, the bits between your ears and my voice
    So praise God that the rain ain't stopped
    Let's head to my spot and take that wet tank-top off now

    2006 ©

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