They say Taylor was a good girl
Never one to be late
Complain, express
Ideas in her brain
Working on the night shift
Passing out the tickets
You're gonna have to pay her
If you wanna park here
Well, mommy's little dancer
Has quite a little secret
Working on the streets now
Never gonna keep it
It's quite an imposition
And now she's only wishin'
That she would have listened
To the words they said
Poor Taylor
She just wanders around
Unaffected by
The winter winds, yeah
And she'll pretend that
Well she's somewhere else
So far and clear
About two thousand miles
From here
Well, Peter Patrick pitter-patters on the window
The sunny silhouette won't let him in
Poor old Pete's got nothing, cause he's been falling
Somehow, Sonny knows just where he's been
He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul
Now that Saturday's gone
Sometimes he thinks
That he's on his way
But I can see
That his brake lights are on
He just wanders around
Unaffected by
The winter winds, yeah
And he'll pretend that
Well he's somewhere else
So far and clear
About two thousand miles
From here
Such a tough enchilada
Filled up with nada
Giving what she gotta
Give to get a dollar bill
Used to be a limber chicken
Times have been a tickin'
Now she's finger lickin'
To the man

With the money in his pocket
Flying in his rocket
Only stopping by
On his way to a better world
If Taylor finds a better world
Then Taylor's gonna run away