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The DoneFors
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Lemons from Argentina
Play me a pretty ditty, baby
I wore this dress for you
Can we kick off our shoes?
Stop dancing to drink some booze?
Before you walk me home at two would you place me a song?
You are a humble little rooster
When you tickle my ivories
Seems Thursdays were made for these
Stolen glances and bucklin' knees
I'm beggin' you baby, please
Won't you play me a song?
You bandage up my blistered toes
My getaway sticks need no pantyhose
Your apartment is in my nose
'Cause that's the way what we got goes
The rain is breathing down our necks
According to the Farmer's Almanac
But we got fifty-two to stack
You're my funny, crazy eight
Some day we'll bail on the city
Settle down some place clean
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Where the sky s blue and clean
We'll make our own hipster scene
You'll be king, baby, I'll be queen
When you play me a song
We can play at playing house
I'll pretend to be the perfect spouse
It's not like we got dreams to dowse
This is all just make-believe
We don't have to speak about how we feel
We just hit play and watch the reel
Who needs true love when there's cards to deal?
My sweet little, crazy eight
Next you make me miss a turn
Pick up two, I start to squirm
You're lucky that you're handsome
You put on your best gangster face
Drop a hint and drop an ace
Put on your cement shoes, baby
Doll face wants to kiss you
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