If I were more like city girls,
If I were more like fancy girls,
And thanks little bee think of me.
Here
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
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.