They say, Taylor was a good girl
Never want to be
Complain, express
ideas in her brain
Working on the night
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 wishing
that she would have
listened to the words they said
Poor Taylor

She just wanders around, unaffected
The winter wind yeah, and she’ll
pretend that
She’s somewhere else, so far and
About two thousand miles from here

Well Peter Patrick pitter patterns on the window
the sunny silhouette wont
let him in
Poor old Pete’s got nothing,
cause he’s been falling
Somehow, Sunny knows just
where he’s been
He thinks that singing on
Sunday is gonna save his soul
Now that Saturdays gone
Sometimes he think that he’s
on his way
But I can see that his brake
light are on

He just wanders around,
unaffected by the
Winter winds and he’ll
pretend that
He’s somewhere else so far and clear
About two thousand miles from here

Such a tough enchilada
filled up with nada
Given what you gotta give to
get a dollar bill
Used to be a lovely 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
Lyrics submitted by Alyssa.