I love it just love it
Oh... what a pretty picture now lets
Jump off the corners and
Swap out the colors
Keep 'em comin' keep 'em comin'
Keep 'em shorter my brother
Shimmy out another one
More about your lover
I'm fed up with the process it's nonsense
You've got to be the farthest thing from artists
No
You're a head on a suit
I'm the living proof that you don't have to lie to keep 'em from the truth

I think that boy's got a sweet tooth
So I'll put sugar in his gas tank
Ohh, ohh
Then I'll wash my hands clean of you
I said I heard you've got a sweet tooth
I've got some sugar for your gas tank
Ohh, ohh
But I'll wash my hands clean of you
Clean of you

Who doesn't love the feeling of being a stranger
Breathing amongst all the people that you should call
When in need of healing
I will continue to speak
To honor the chic and
To wreak of an easing a song of kids
Cause their heads could use opening
They fed us the works
And then they changed all my words
Cause I wouldn't say that to you
Cause I don't have to lie
To keep you from the truth

I think that boy's got a sweet tooth
So I'll put sugar in his gas tank
Then I'll wash my hands clean of you
Clean of you

I said I heard you've got a sweet tooth
Got some sugar for your gas tank
But I'll wash my hands clean of you
Clean of you