| Mail order brides, turtlenecks, and trophy wives,
|
| Had the ways and means to breach,
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| The borders of easy street,
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| And to blend right in,
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| We all surrounded them in a white picket fence,
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| Now both ends meet,
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| Sufficed to say there’s a time and a place,
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| So I wait,
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| For the tug-of-war and who you’ll pull for,
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| While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
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| That burns at both our good ends,
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| Two peas in a pod, a battleaxe, and a bastard child,
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| Took one step more and went straight to the source,
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| And to blend right in,
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| They opened fire with their rain checks spent to make ends meet,
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| Sufficed to say there’s a time and a place,
|
| So I wait,
|
| For the tug-of-war and who you’ll pull for,
|
| While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
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| That burns at both our good ends,
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| Go on, paint the whole town red,
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| I’d rather follow who cleans up the mess,
|
| And so I wait,
|
| Sufficed to say there’s a time and a place,
|
| So I wait,
|
| For the tug-of-war and who you’ll pull for,
|
| While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
|
| That burns at both our good ends. |