We were headed home to Austin Caught pneumonia on the road Taking it home to Connie and the kids A wheel ran off and jumped a railroad Then ran through
One, two, three You gotta love everybody, make 'em feel good about themselves You gotta love everybody, make 'em feel good about themselves You got to
Oh, she play the drums like a queen Got the prettiest high hat cymbal I've ever seen I could fix a broken bass drum beater If I had the courage to go
I had a girl and she did me wrong I didn't let that kind of shit go on too long Split the clouds and divided the sea Showed the evil girl how nasty
the world who ever that might be Just go ahead and nuzzle up cause its Christmas time Merry Christmas everybody from the Presidents Of The United States Of America
Runnin' to and fro, hard Workin at the mill Never fail, get the mail He comes a rotton bill Too much monkey business Too much monkey business Too
Fire up the womantone And drown the brown sound Wire up the dynamite Tore me apart I had a lovely time Lovely time Lovely time Tiny explosions Tiny explosions
Tremolo blooz, ain't got nothin' to loose Ain't got nothin' but those tumblin', mumbling blooz Brains came out first when I was born I bent down to catch
See that kid Flat on his back See that kid Flat on his back He got a TV eye on me He got a TV eye He got a TV eye on me, oh See that girl Flat
It's 6 a.m. and the sun is getting high He picks up the mail from the slot He feels the rush of excitement as he holds it in his hand Another love note
I heard you on my wireless back in '52 Lying awake intent at tuning in on you If I was young it didn't stop you coming through Oh-a oh They took the
I let my thirsty boots wander all over They come home with lies about women And in the evening toe up to the stars Sun is comin' up and something's feelin
Little sign of manhood, where did you go? The edge of the yard I found you, you know All brown and hard I can't get your body out of my mind I can't
Get down Let me tell you bout a friend of mine His name is Boll Weevil, check him out Spends all day on his big butt And he don't ever, ever get outside
3, 4! 3, 4! 3, 4! 3, 4! All this energy callin' me Back where it comes from It's such a crude attitude It's back where it belongs All the little kids
Well, I happened to find me a buggy Coming out from under a rock in the grass, yeah He got his bug luggage No time to talk he's walkin' fast, yeah Said
A billions of birdies squawking out loud Talking in code to clams in the clouds They send a secret message, they send it by worm Some vibrating spiders
Kitty at my foot and I wanna touch it Kitty at my foot and I wanna touch it Kitty at my foot and I wanna touch it Kitty at my foot and I wanna touch it