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 want to park here Well mommy's little dancer is 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 here, she'll pretend that 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 And poor old Pete's got nothing 'cause he's been falling And somehow sunny knows just where he's been He thinks that singin' on Sunday's gonna save his soul Now that Saturday's gone And 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 here, and he'll pretend that He's somewhere else, so far and clear, About two thousand miles from here Such a tough enchilada, filled up with nada Givin' what you gotta give to get a dollar bill Used to be a limber chicken, times have been a ticking Now she's finger lickin' to the man With the money in his pocket, flying in his rocket And only stopping by on his way to a better world If Taylor finds a better world Then Taylor's gonna run away