Tryin Stuff On

I dug out your photograph from our old dresser drawer I set it on the table and I talked to it till four Then I saw your nightie on the table by the phone on. Then I looked through your jewelry, for your clip on hoop ear rings Your lipstick and your make-up, your accessories and things Then I plundered throught your closet, till I found an extra long And I've been sittin' at home tryin' stuff on. CHORUS Trying stuff on, I'm tryin' stuff on Your six-inch heels and your Faberge co-{A} logne Yes, you wardrobe that you owned on. I put on your sequined ball gown and I checked the mirror there Why, I look like Cindy Crawford, but with much more body hair And then I thought, I'm much too cute, to sit here all alone So I'm at happy hour with your stuff on. A trucker made a pass at me, so I hit him with your purse And the police stepped between us, before it could get worse And then the nice policeman said, can I take you home He didn't know it was me, with your stuff on. (CHORUS #2) With your stuff on, I got your stuff on Your fish-net hose and your dress of pink chiffon Oh, you left me with your mem'ries and the wardrobe that you owned But I don't pay for drinks with your stuff on.