|
He is the boss of me |
|
He gives me hugs and sugar lumps |
|
when my heart's gone bitter |
|
He is the boss of me |
|
He makes me coffee |
|
and I write him a letter |
|
like I'm a poet or his ancestor |
|
He is the boss of me |
|
He tells me where to go |
|
So I go, I just go |
|
He's never done me wrong, |
|
but he never wants to sing my songs |
|
'cause he is my walrus |
|
and I am his blubber, his lover |
|
He is the boss of me |
|
We walk until we hit the shore, |
|
then we walk more, |
|
he walks more than me |
|
He is the boss of me |
|
My left foot walks to the rhythm of his |
|
We march like we are children |
|
in an army club |
|
He is the boss of me |
|
He gives me a sensual touch |
|
and marks a trail of human blood |
|
he calls angel dust |
|
The pearl in his hand is |
|
the jewel that will make me a man |
|
'cause he is my walrus |
|
and I am his blubber, his covers |
|
The pearl in his hand is |
|
the jewel that will make me a man |
|
'cause he is my walrus |
|
and I am his blubber, his lover |
