Whip-Smart

I'm gonna tell my son to grow up pretty
as the grass is green and

Whip-smart as the English Channel's wide

And I'm gonna tell my son
to keep his money in his mattress

And his watch on any hand
between his thighs

And I'm gonna lock my son up
in a tower 'til I write my whole life story

On the back of his big brown eyes

When they do the double dutch
that's them dancing

And I'm gonna tell my son
to join a circus so that death is cheap and

Games are just another way of life

And I'm gonna tell my son
to be a prophet of mistakes
because for every truth
there are half a million lies

And I'm gonna lock my son up in a tower
'Til he learns to let his hair down
far enough to climb outside

When they do the double dutch
that's them dancing