If I were more like city girls,
If I were more like fancy girls,
And thanks little bee think of me.
Here's four photographs just for laughs.
My miss shipwreck sinks yes she sings.
My miss pitch fork pinch, yes she pinch.
My miss sidewalk slips, makes a mess, tickle flesh

When the night doesn't want you
And the steps to the temple are the breasts made of puddles

If I were more like city girls,
If I were more like fancy girls
And all my thumbs touch too much.