I'm gonna tell my son to up pretty as the grass is green And whip-smart as the Channel's wide And I'm gonna tell my son to his money in his mattress And his on any hand between his thighs And I'm gonna my son up in a tower Till I write my life story on the back of his big brown eyes
When they do the double dutch, that's dancing When they do the dutch, that's them dancing When do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, them dancing
I'm gonna tell my son to join a so that death is cheap And games are just another way of And I'm gonna tell my son to be a prophet of Because for every truth there are half a lies And I'm gonna lock my son up in a Till he learns to let his down far enough to climb outside
When they do the dutch, that's them dancing they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them
When they do the double dutch, that's them When they do the double dutch, them dancing they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them
When they do the dutch, that's them dancing When do the double dutch, that's them dancing they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When do the double dutch, that's them dancing
When they do the double dutch, them dancing When they do the double dutch, them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them
When they do the dutch, that's them dancing