Strictly Mr. Thompson goes to work everyday Except Saturdays, Sundays, and national holidays ?He leaves at three He used to leave at four But the commute
On a wayward sail In the middle of the ocean Drenched in sun Drenched in my suntan lotion The radio cries And 'til the station dies It's the only sound
I'm being hopelessly optimistic?you're an honest crook The poor reputation your love gets should make you look It gets pretty ugly I'm clearly misunderstood
It's too bad I don't like you anymore Yes it's too bad But my novel is gonna need an evil villain It's too bad we kinda fell apart We had somethin' going
I turned on the radio just the other day I let out a holler, I let out a hey Something's wrong here, but I've paid my dues My favorite radio station
He said, "practice Electra You might need me someday Though the wind blows your hair, tugs you around I know you won't blow away" Yes, my name is Electra
Down by the Mississippi, buried in the mud Is a five page oath and a bottle of wine It's engraved in steel, it's written in blood As far as I can tell
Pierre is walking Under a red umbrella The clouds look like an animal Pierre, you feel so big but then so small Every single time she calls you You,