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Funny Tab

by Trashcan Sinatras



 The TrashCanSinatras: Funny

                                    
 I know she doesn't play the field
                                                   
 But she likes to know the strength of the team
                                      
 She says she doesn't like my style
                          
 But I loved her in my own fashion
           
 Kept her under wraps
          
 Planted lots of verbal traps
                                   
 But she won't be gone for long
           
 Nothing good ever comes of a bad mood
                    
 And when she comes home

 She'll kick up some dust
                       
 And ask me what's wrong

                               
 She's a funny kind of girl
                         
 Set sail in a ship in a bottle
                               
 She's a funny kind of girl
               
 Do the Swiss fake it when the yodal
                                      
 She's a funny kind of girl

                             
 I know her face so well
                
 Although the color of her eyes
    
 Escapes me for the moment
         
 So Ill send out the spies
     
 To hassle her at home
              
 And all the words to the wise
          
 And the wise to the words I say
               
 Though her embrace
          
 Is like being short-changed

 Or under-charged
              
 I'll never revisit the scene of the crime
                                    
 Where I've seen you crying with glee

                               
 She's a funny kind of girl
                                  
 Give bad directions to a drunken sailor
                               
 He ended up in the hills
      
 And she ended up
           
 In the wrong hands
                                      
 She's a funny kind of girl

Solo:                                         

                    
 I'll stick out my neck
                          
 And I'll raise the heavy head of importance
                         
 And when the cap fits I'll wear it
                        
 But if I knew what made carpets fly
                
 I wouldn't be sitting here
                
 Twiddling my thumbs in applause
        
 I'd threadbare my soul
        
 And wheedle my way
                     
 Into other people's lives
                
 And out of my own
                                                 

Mail me for corrections.

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Gunnar O. Haereid               "Call, collect and gather me,
Oslo, Norway                     take me intravenously."
gunnarha@jus.uio.no                     The TrashCanSinatras
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