Quit your job, dear
Then you can stay here at home beside me
You be James Dean
I'll be Sal Mineo, you can hide me

I haven't seen you in ages
but it's not as bleak as it seems
We still dance on whirling stages
in my Busby Berkeley dreams

Papa was a rodeo
Mama was a rock'n'roll band
I could play guitar and rope a steer
before I learned to stand

Sigh and grow every day paler
bowed by a mortal ennui
I fell in love with a sailor
a sailor in love with the sea

I could make a career of being blue
I could dress in black and read Camus
smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like I was 17
that would be a scream
but I don't want to get over you

I know I'm not supposed to say I'm sorry
I know you've had more loves than Mata Hari
but you know you're the star of my life story
and I'm so sorry

Well my heart's running round like a chicken with its head cut off
all around the barnyard falling in and out of love
The poor thing's blind as a bat getting up, falling down, getting up
Who'd fall in love with a chicken with its head cut off?

Acoustic guitar, if you think I play hard
well, you could have belonged to Steve Earle
or Charo or Gwar
I could sell you tomorrow
so bring me back my girl

Andy
would bicycle across town
in the rain to bring you candy

I went out to the forest and caught
A hundred thousand fireflies.
As they ricochet round the room
they remind me of your starry eyes

The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb