Don't Forget Whose Legs You're On

The painted faces congregate In the mating season The second homes They go alone In no rush to leave 'em And there's a fountain And a scimitar Shaped yellow light That picks you up And cuts you down to size Ponte: The people there And the furniture Start to seem important And a whole lot more You catch the floor With a vivid and absorbant sharpened arc Like the scimitar Shaped yellow light That picks you up And cuts you down to size I had questions for the tap dancer Sat on my lap And she had child proof caps on her answers Stolen blower blow me a stone And show me that handsome enhancer She had a rock on her throttle And a brown glass bottle full of Shavings from the sun Although those shoes affect your step Don't forget, whose legs you're on And there's a fountain And a scimitar Shaped yellow light That picks you up And cuts you down to size (