Distorted songs
She was coming 'round the curve doin' 90 miles an hour
when the chain on her new bicycle broke!
She was found lyin' there with a sprocket in her pocket
tickled to death by an errant and willful spoke.
The old outhouse looks the same
but the catalogue is gone.
And there's the old oak seat
that I used to sssssssi-it on.
Down the lane I'd run,
sometimes I'd make it.
Other times
I'd have to fake it.
That's why we had
the green, green grass of home.
