Yo somethingand's wrong here. no not again!)
(get the daisies for the...)
Potholes in my lawn
Dove:
Everybodyand's sayinand'
What to do when suckinand' lunatics start digginand' and chewinand'
They donand't know that the soul donand't go for that
Potholes in my lawn
And that goes for my rhyme sheet
Which i concentrated so hard on see
I donand't ask for maximum security
But my dwellinand' is swellinand'
It nipped my bud when i happened to fall
Into a spot
Where no ink or an ink-blot
Was on a scroll
I just wrote me a new and'motand'
But now itand's gone
Thereand's no
Suckers knew that i hate
To recognise that every time iand'm writinand'
Itand's gone
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a)
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee)
Potholes in my lawn
Pos:
Iand've found that itand's not wise
To leave my garden untended
and'cause eyes have now pardoned all laws of privacy
Even paws are after my writer
See, iand've found that everyoneand's sayinand'
What to do when suckers are preyinand'
On my well-guarded spreadsheets
Oh why, hell does it send up fleets
Of evil-doers through the big hole
To get to evil-doers who dig holes
Which leaves my lawn with lawn-chew
I think iand'd better plant traces to give clues
Or better yet call 911
And when they get here i inform them iand'm the plug one
Open a chair and let them realize the reason
For concern of the soul,
and'cause weand've come down with a case of potholes
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a)
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee)
Potholes in my lawn
(who stole, who stole, who stole the cookie
From the cookie jar?)
Dove:
Now you got the message
What to do when you die
The death that i predict in and'plug tuninand'
Itand's a shame that you deny to claim
That you stole my words of fame
That i wrote in my rhyme sheet
Which i concentrated so hard on, see
I donand't ask for a barbed wire fence, b
But my dwellinand' is swellinand'
It nipped my bud when i happened to fall
Into a spot
Where no ink or an ink-blot
Was on a scroll
I just wrote me a new and'motand'
But now itand's gone thereand's no
Suckers knew that i hate
To recoginse that every time iand'm writinand'
Itand's gone
Potholes in my lawn
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-a)
(yodel-a-hee, yodel-oh-hee, yodel-ee-hee-hee-hee)
