Taylor (album version) - Jack Johnson

They say Taylor was a good girl

Never one to be late

Complain, express

Ideas in her brain

Working on the night shift

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 wishin'

That she would have listened

To the words they said

Poor Taylor

She just wanders around

Unaffected by

The winter winds, yeah

And she'll pretend that

Well she's somewhere else

So far and clear

About two thousand miles

From here

Well, Peter Patrick pitter-patters on the window

The sunny silhouette won't let him in

Poor old Pete's got nothing, cause he's been falling

Somehow, Sonny knows just where he's been

He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul

Now that Saturday's gone

Sometimes he thinks

That he's on his way

But I can see

That his brake lights are on

He just wanders around

Unaffected by

The winter winds, yeah

And he'll pretend that

Well he's somewhere else

So far and clear

About two thousand miles

From here

Such a tough enchilada

Filled up with nada

Giving what she gotta

Give to get a dollar bill

Used to be a limber 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