We've all been rubbing shoulders
With the man whose name starts with a G
I seen him round before
Fairly often now but presently
I'm not ready
I sense him size me up
So I try to avoid his eyes
I'll take him with one kick
Between his bony thighs
I'm not ready
Her stay was short, her kids
Were left without her maternal light
This happens often
But it never sits quite right
See, why you come for those
Who did not know what they had coming
And why you pass all those
I would swear that did?
I held my grandpa's hand
While you took him for his hardest ride
As his last breath filled the room
His horse rode in
It was his time I know
But some things I just don't understand
Would it be fair to send
Pretty invitations?
We've all been rubbing shoulders
With a man whose name starts with a G
You just might take me but
You'll still be sore between those thighs
