War On Jazz

Money goes in the bank, spank, spank her
Kowtow (?), a German prince can love to
Love you, lovey-dove you
I can’t talk, I do it too
Oh, crazy, crazy
Matchmaker make me
The treasure wasn’t gold
It was cold, so was she, so:
Dead soul, possess me to eat his bed
Down, dog, one, two, three, four
You said it
Can they grade me? (?? can the ?? mean?)
They get me something. (They could mean something?)
Don’t hit me with that, no
Don’t hit me with that song
No-one's strong here
Somewhat stoned, y’know
There’s no more shows to do
Cutting corners at every corner
You (your?) beautiful military minds
Soldiered you on
How many days of this are left to
My routine? So clean, clean, clean
The (like?) slow, slow, slow-shodden shoes