She was a topical storm with big brown eyes
Take caution mister and a word to the wise
Hunker down harbour, let ‘er pass you by
You ain’t the first captain to give her the eye.
Her trunk looks good in Gucci wear
Try as we might we all just stare
The storm is coming better get on board
Some people just have to live life by the sword
She was a south bound beemer
On a hell of a ride
Bettin’ on forgettin’
She had too much to hide
A raft of broken hearts
That were left in her wake
Try as she might she can’t
Touch the brake
Sipping chocolate martinis and Sonoma wine
Keeping up her credit on the telephone line
“I’ll be home real soon honey let me make it clear
But first I’m going fishing off of this pier”
Barometer’s dropping and the skies are black
Boarded up windows there’s no time to look back
He said this and she said that.
Sirens wailing from our little spat
Written by Eric (Spike) Stich
Spike ‘em Music (ASCAP) © 2010
