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I know she doesn't play the field |
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But she likes to know the strength of the team |
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She says she doesn't like my style |
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But I loved her in my own fashion |
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Kept her under wraps |
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Planted lots of verbal traps |
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But she won't be gone for long |
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Nothing good ever comes of a bad mood |
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And when she comes home |
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She'll kick up some dust |
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And ask me what's wrong |
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She's a funny kind of girl |
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Set sail in a ship in a bottle |
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She's a funny kind of girl |
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Do the Swiss fake it when they yodel? |
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She's a funny kind of girl |
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I know her face so well |
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Although the color of her eyes |
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Escapes me for the moment |
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So I'll send out the spies |
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To hassle her at home |
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And all the words to the wise |
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And the why's to the words I say |
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Though her embrace |
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Is like being short-changed |
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Or under-charged |
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I'll never revisit the scene of the crime |
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Where I've seen you crying with glee |
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She's a funny kind of girl |
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Give bad directions to a drunken sailor |
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He ended up in the hills |
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And she ended up |
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In the wrong hands |
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She's a funny kind of girl |
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I'll stick out my neck |
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And I'll raise the heavy head of importance |
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And when the cap fits I'll wear it |
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And if I knew what made carpets fly |
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I wouldn't be sitting here |
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Twiddling my thumbs |
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I'd threadbare my soul |
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And wheedle my way |
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Into other people's lives |
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And out of my own |
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Out of my own |
