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You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists
You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists
You get the ankles and I'll get the wrists
You come down to this
Nerves are up
And the eyes all screwy
Blood like a painful
Of boiling ratatouille
My muscles in a mess
Like a mess of spaghetti
Hack through the mess
With a greased-up machete
Hang from the axles of a box car
Follow the dotted line
Like a steer to Chicago
But to the hooks of the Chicago man
I get all tripped up
My eyes turn to water
Rug burns from a shag rug
Struck dumb in the presence
Polyester burns from a jacket
Rub the skin thin
Break down in a diner
Then I paid the bill
Cashier toothpick stuck in the ground
Tiny lawnmower to mow me down
I could get lost in a lunch box
Lie low in the mittens in the lost and found
Heart Attack
Diamonds
One Of Those Nights
I Knew You Were Trouble.
Started From the Bottom
Teenage Dream (Ringtune)
I\'ll Be Good To You
Don't You Worry Child (feat. John Martin)
Wanted You More
Baby Song
