Girl,
you gotta learn,
when it's a burn,
when it's the last dying turn-
so dag-nab-it-
it's gotta earn.
So let the coins turn,
and a dime red-out the purrin,'
proposing a churnin,'
as I say 'loins churpin!'
As the logs of the hall stay turned-in,
like a bomb cab-in!
In the woods where babies have their own kin,
works as kindlein' to keep a light in the fires of the wind,
my babies stay dyin' 'cause 'what-is' is to let-win,
even if the moon shines so shiny primm,
it shines in-
one could see cartoon vision as they sin.
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