I've got an idea, baby
We don't need other men or their horses
How about we remain in the fortress, gluing us back

I've got an idea, baby
Metairie night in
Sheet pan of cinnamon rolls and me and you

You don't buy what I say
When you lie, and you're good at it
You can ruin all of the good you get in elaborate ways
Cut me to ground
Or you could stay, and you could hear me out

I've got an idea, baby
Say we quit the mess, head to Ruidoso
Do a dummy check, leaving nothing open
No trace