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  say Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late
 complain, express ideas in her 
 Working on the night shift, passing out the 
 your gonna have to pay her if you want  park here.
 
 Well mommy's  dancer is quite a little secret
 Working  the streets now, never gonna keep it.
  quite an imposition and now she's only wishin
 That she would have listened to  words they say...Poor Taylor.
 
  just wanders around, unaffected by,
 the winter winds yeah,  pretend that
 She's somewhere else,  far and clear
  two thousand miles, from here.
 
 Well Peter Patrick  patters on the window,
 but Sunny's silhouette  let him in.
 Poor old  got nothing cuz he's been falling,
 And somehow Sunny knows just where  been.
 
 He thinks that singin  Sunday's gonna save his soul,
 now that  gone.
 And sometimes he thinks that  on his way,
 but i  see, that his brake lights ARE on.
 
 He  wanders around, unaffected by,
  winter winds yeah, and he'll pretend that,
 he's somewhere else,  far and clear,
  two thousand miles...from here
 
 Such a tough enchilada, filled up  nada,
  what you gotta give to get a dollar bill.
 Used to be a  chick n' times have been a tickin,
 now she's finger  to the man,
 With the money in his pocket, flying in his 
 only stopping by on his way to a better 
 
 If Taylor  a better world, then Taylor's gonna run away.