what’s the matter Alice? ain’t you in love?
do the backstroke in your clawfoot tub
remember all those little creeps down in the hole
no way well alright then what’s got you down?
neurotransmitters all sputtered with gold
wild javelinas rankin’ best in show
you’re gonna hit me but it sounds like to me
she has a little bit of that self help aisle fatigue
i won’t buy from Sanchez i will purloin
sneak up on anyone in my congress boots
nicked from a booth on old Portabello
gonna throw it all in the van with the hot solar panels
hey Alice ain’t you down the road
month worth of bed-head and the shakes in your robe
it’s but a funk and that’s all i gotta say to
oh yeah, this fella Sanchez he’s lookin’ for you
you must not know…
