|
Nothing comes easy, baby;
everything comes hard.
But you make me queasy, baby,
standing in my yard
in the rain.
I'm not sure what I'm s'posed to do.
If I had to guess, I'd have to guess
Something's Come Over You
I don't have the magic, baby,
or no amulet,
but you look so tragic, baby,
standing there all wet
in your pain,
with everything just stuck to you like glue.
I'm afraid you'll shrink and I really think
Something's Come Over You
You oughta' save your head, now, baby;
you oughta' have a hat.
But when your eyes get red, now, baby
and bulge out like that
it's insane.
I'm afraid this is more than just the flu.
I called 911 and they confirmed:
Something's Come Over You
Copyright © Jon Storm. All rights reserved.
|
|
|