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Well a million stars is what you are |
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And it seems like that to me |
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Or a million sprats in conical hats |
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Who're oozing in the sea |
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The deep sea fish has one big wish |
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And he gets up on the plate |
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That girl he choose |
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Knows how to ooze |
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You can always tell what she ate |
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She's been grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Plato Pluto Monroe Garbo |
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All between the sheets |
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And they make their deals and drive their wheels |
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Down sugar-coated streets |
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Hands in the syrup and the feets in the stirrup |
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And the rest goes in your mouth |
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The short is warm and the long is storm |
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And there ain't nothing in the South |
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But anyway |
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I don't know why I'm so alone |
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I've always been a rolling stone |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Ah, sock it to me, Reginald... |
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I don't know what you're going through |
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I hope I'm going through it, too |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
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Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
|
Grooving on a inner plane |
|
Grooving grooving back again |
|
Grooving on a inner plane |
|
Grooving grooving back again |
|
Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
|
Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
|
Grooving on a inner plane |
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Grooving grooving back again |
