Little Song

Alright
She lives by the sea in a funny little house
Shes got an african manager and some indian cows
She seems so distracted by the waves and the sand
She practises white magic on a black baby grand
Its not about right or wrong
Its just a little song
The people next door stole some chickens, everyone wants to be friends
Cindy is just a beautician practicing her self-defence
Joey is greasing the chevy tattooed and awful thin
Swearing that the light is heavy, dreaming about mortal sin
She rolls the dice to determine her future
You can walk in her shoes if you think that they suit ya She can put on an accent, she can pull on a leg
To proud to beseech you, too humble to beg
Oh why dont I belong
In a little song
Its not about right or wrong
Its just a little song