Judybats Down In The Shacks Where The Satellite Dishes Grow She's Sad She Said Her beautiful arse Cantilevering over a table of hors d'oeuvres She took a sip of her drink and said, "Hey, this music really gets on my nerves." I said, "What music?" She said, "The music in my head Sometimes it makes me wish I were dead It's like a requiem It's like a rodeo Can't you hear it?" I said, "No." She said, "Like where is here And, tell me, how will I know when I get there I wear my little black dress, I'm just waiting around Will I think to comb my hair?" I said, "Will it matter?" She says, "Matter everywhere No one here, they never play fair I hope heaven is a place where sloe gin fizz comes in Those little glasses, you know the ones That are blue on the bottom and thin on the top?" CHORUS She said she said e said She's sad, she said She said she said she said She's sad She said she said she said She's sad she said she's sad She said she said she said She said, "You know, the people here, all they wanna do Is pick you apart; trouble is, they don't have time To put you back together again. I hate New York. I've thought about moving, to Italy Or Spain or Hell, maybe even Tennessee." CHORUS All she said Was she's sad she said All she said Was she's sad --------------------------------- |
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