Let me watch you Mr. Tuna, while you are shooting a baby. While you are shooting a baby. A wreath as big as an ox cart wouldn't suffice because you're too grand. Because you are too steady--a "can-do" guy. While you're up there with your horehound candy and your walking stick I'm below with a lute tied to my chicken.
I have no one to confide in but myself when it comes to you and me, my dear No one knows that you're really a girl - no one can imagine it So I guess you'll have to keep on wearing pants even though you really shred in a skirt I can't tell my mom, I can't tell my boyfriend That Mr. Tuna's been a girl all her life and I want to go out with her