by Harold Hughes <bighazza@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Apr 7, 2008 at 11:04 PM
Anonymous wrote:
> They say Debra was a good girl
> never one to be late
> complain express ideas in her brain
> Workin on the night ****ft
> passin out the tickets
> you're gonna have to pay her
> if you want to park here.
> Well mummy's little dancer's
> quite a little secret
> workin on the streets now
> never gonna keep it.
> It's quite an imposition
> And now she's only wi****n'
> That she would have listened
> To the words they said.
> Poor Debra.
>
> Well she just wanders around
> uneffected by
> the winter winds, yeah
> and she'll pretend that
> well she's somewhere else
> so far and clear
> about 2,000 miles from here.
>
> Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window
> And Sunny's silhouette won't let him in
> and poor old Pete's got nothin 'cause he's been fallin'
> but somehow Sunny knows just where he's been
> He thinks that singin' on a Sunday's gunna save his soul
> but now that Saturday's gone
> Well sometimes he thinks that he's on his way
> but I can see, that his break lights are on
>
> And he just wanders around
> uneffected by
> the winter winds, yeah
> and he'll pretend that
> well he's somewhere else
> so far and clear
> about 2,000 miles from here.
>
> She's such a tough enchilada
> filled up with nada
> givin' what she got to give to get dollar bills
> she used to be a limber chick
> time's a been tickin'
> now she's finger lickin to the man
> with the money in his pockets
> flyin in his rocket
> only stoppin by on his way to a better world
> if Debra finds a better world
> Debra's gunna run away
>
Obviously a different Debra to the one I know