They say Taylor was a good girl, Never one to be late, Complain, Express ideas in her brain. Working on the night shift, Passing out the tickets. You're gonna have to pay her If you wanna park here. Well, mommy's little dancer Has quite a little secret Working on the streets now, Never gonna keep it. It's quite an imposition. And now she's only wishin' That she would have listened To the words they said. Poor Taylor. She just wanders around Unaffected by the winter winds, yeah. And she'll pretend that, Well, she's somewhere else. So far and clear, About 2'000 miles from here. Well, Peter Patrick pitter-patters on the window, But Sunny Silhouette won't let him in. And poor old Pete's got nothing 'Cause he's been fallin', And somehow Sunny knows just where he's been. He thinks that singin' on a Sunday gonna save his soul Now that Saturday's gone. But sometimes he thinks that he's on his way, But I can see that his brake lights are on. And he just wanders around Unaffected by the winter winds, yeah. And he'll pretend that, Well, he's somewhere else. So far and clear, About 2'000 miles from here. Such a tough enchilada Filled up with nada. Givin' what you gotta give to get a dollar bill. Used to be a limber chick and Time has been a-tickin'. Now she's finger-licking To the man With the money in his pocket, Flying in his rocket, Only stopping by on his way to a better world. If Taylor finds a better world, Taylor's gonna run away
