You've got me sitting on your mantle like a little gla** figurine
Why must you be so mean?
Don't you know I've got better things to do? I'm like a mail order product from a housekeeping magazine
How utterly embarra**ing
Well, lady, I'm not going to dance that dance Let the giraffes do it, let the sad clown cry
Your porcelain kisses are not going to turn me shy
No, I'm not your little boy, your rosy cheeked joy
Though the thought of you makes me sanguine
I'll do anything you want but I won't be your gla** figurine Let the giraffes do it, let the sad clown cry
Your porcelain kisses are not going to turn me shy
No, I'm not your little boy, your rosy cheeked joy
Though the thought of you makes me sanguine
I'll do anything you want but I won't be your gla** figurine