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Fred Tackett, Paul Barrere |
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Now you got the style attitde so well and proper |
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Your etiquette's a cut above the rest |
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You got the kind of walk sets them heads a turnin' |
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My heart's burnin' yearnin' for your best |
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How 'bout for a while ya give this boy a tumble |
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Do the rhumba you know what I mean |
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Ya throw me a smile something to remember just one time |
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I'm down here on my knees |
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Won't you please stop your teasin' |
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Ya know you got no reason |
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To be clownin' with my heart |
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Can't you see what you're doin' with your recipe for ruin |
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Got me drownin' no it's tearin' me apart |
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Before I'd ever let you see me cryin' |
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I'd eat boiled owl, girl if I'm lyin I'm dyin' -- I'm gonna walk |
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Well you set that choir on fire every Sunday mornin' |
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The way you sashay into church |
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All the brothers and the sisters down in that amen corner |
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Roll their eyes in disbelief at your short skirts |
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Oh man, you shook their chakras |
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You got their zodiacs so outta whack |
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It's apocalypse now and it's all your fault |
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I ain't runnin' scared, no I won't hide my eyes |
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I'm on you like a cowboy on a mail order bride |
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So won't you please stop your teasin' |
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Ya know you got no reason |
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To be clownin' with my heart |
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Can't you see what you're doin' with your recipe for ruin |
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Got me drownin' no it's tearin' me apart |
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Before I'd ever let you see me cryin' |
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Tar and feather me, babe, if I'm lyin I'm dyin' -- I'm gonna walk |
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Won't you please stop your teasin' |
|
Ya know you got no reason |
|
To be clownin' with my heart |
|
Can't you see what you're doin' with your recipe for ruin |
|
Got me drownin' no it's tearin' me apart |
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Before I'd ever let you see me cryin' |
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I'd eat boiled owl, girl if I'm lyin I'm dyin' -- I'm gonna walk |
