Don’t Forget Whose Legs You’re On

Paroles

In the painted faces congregate
In the mating season
The seconds homes
They go alone
In no rush leave ’em
And there’s a fountain
And a scimitar
Shaped yellow light
And it picks you up
And cuts you down to size
The people there
And the furniture
Start to seem important
A moment more
And you catch the floor
With a vivid and absorbent sharpened arc
Like the scimitar
Shaped yellow light
That picks you up
And cuts you down to size
Oh I had questions for the tap dancer
Sat on my lap
And she had child proof caps on her answers
Stone blower blow me a stone
And show me that handsome enchancer
She had a rock on her throttle
And a brown glass bottle full of
Shavings from the sun
Although those shoes affect your step
Don’t forget whose legs you’re on
There’s a fountain and a scimitar
Shaped yellow light
And it picks you up
And it cuts you down to size