"A penny for your thoughts," he says as
he swiftly slips from bed to bed and the
thoughtful ones are charmed by him and the sexy
ones turned on by him and he's knighted by
casanova's kin and his ladies would never turn on
him 'cause he's the cary grant of the party kings
and the playboy of your wildest dreams wouldn't
you like to be a sweetheart? Haven't you dreamed
of being an upstart? Owning the heart of every
beauty queen the envy of every ladies man-machine
making regular stops at meat market spots lifting
skirts and molesting tarts buying bottles and blow
and whiskey shots for any femme fatale who's got
an urge to fuck. Sometimes he's not alone he's got
a family and home does he rent or does he own? Is
he the villian in your tome? Has he forgotten his
way? Has he a mind to leave the fray? Are you so
naive and vague? Does it matter anyway? ly
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/MOzyafternoon it's dead they've all gone down and off
to bed and in his hands a fifth of gin, a fine
young thing, some methedrine disgusted, drunk and
all washed up and still nursing a stinking cup he
shades his eyes from a cloudless sky and punkes it
up, it's party time again. Combat boots are all
laced up prada shoes with argyle socks seductive
stares and massed up hair ripped and torn and now
laid bare i'll take you to my little room i'll
play you "fly me to the moon" relax, i'm
clean and blind and free you won't gain anything
from me. Come take comfort from the storm befriend
the ones you scorned i'll be your savior and your
saint i'll be what all the others ain't it's not
as bad as it all seems what if this were all a
dream? Do you have to be so plain? Does it matter
anyway?