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Jack Johnson
Poor Taylor


She just wanders around unaffected by the winter winds, yeah

She pretends that she`s somewhere else

So far and clear, two-thousand miles from here



Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late

Complain, express ideas in her brain

Working on the night shift passing out the tickets

You`re going to have to pay her if you want to park here



Well mummy`s little dancer is quite a little secret

She`s working on the streets now, never gonna keep it

It`s quite an imposition and now she`s only wishing

That she would have listened to the words they said

Poor Taylor



Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window

But Sunny Silhouette won`t let him in

Poor old Pete`s a got a nothing cause he`s been falling

And somehow Taylor knows just where he`s been



He thinks that singin` on Sunday is gonna save his soul

Now that Saturday`s gone

And sometimes he thinks that he`s on his way

But I can see, that his brake-lights are on

Taylor finds a better world

And Taylor`s gonna run away