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 want to park here

Well mommy's little dancer is 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 here

She'll pretend that

She's somwhere else

So far and clear

About two thousand miles

From here

Well Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window

The sunny silhouette

Won't let him in

Poor old Pete's got nothing cuz he's been falling

And somehow sunny knows

Just where he's been

He thinks that singin on Sunday's gonna save his soul

Now that Saturday's gone

And sometimes he thinks that he's on his way

But I can see

That his brake lights are on

He just wanders around

Unaffected by

The winter winds here

And he'll pretend that

He's somewhere else

So far and clear

About two thousand 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 chicken

Times have been a ticking

Now she's finger lickin 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

Then Taylor's gonna run away