Lyrics

Stalling, stalling, the hardwood of pews is calling We want this news Lovely ladies make pretty babies, it's true That woman's not you Take your body and clothes to places he won't go Your life as you know is hopeless, it'll happen too slow Oh, she's tricked, she was trapped Her body was lacking white and red Those hues lost in bed Oh, they would speak language exacting Oh, they would lay, parts practicing And through it all he won't call Lovely ladies take your beauty to your grave