They say Taylor was a good girl, never want to be lateComplain, express ideas in her brainWorking on the night shift, passing out the ticketsYou're gonna have to pay her if you want to park hereWell, mommy's little dancer is quite a little secretWorking on the streets, now I'm never gonna keep itIt's quite an imposition, and now she's only wishingThat she would have listened to the words they saidPoor TaylorAnd she just wanders around, unaffected byThe winter winds, yeahAnd she'll pretend that, well, she's somewhere elseSo far and clear, about two thousand milesFrom hereWell, Peter Patrick pitter-patters on the windowBut Sonny Silhouette won't let him inAnd poor old Pete's got nothing cause he's been fallingAnd somehow Sonny knowsJust where he's beenHe thinks the singing all Sunday gonna save his soulNow that Saturday's goneAnd sometimes he thinks that he's on his wayBut I can seeThat his brake lights are onBut he just wanders aroundUnaffected byThe winter winds, yeahAnd he'll pretend that, well, he's somewhere elseSo far and clearAbout two thousand milesFrom hereSuch a tough enchilada filled up one nightGiving what you gotta give to get a dollar billUsed to be a limber chickAnd times have been a-tickin'Now she's finger-lickin' to the manWith the money in his pocketFlying in his rocketOnly stopping by on his way to a better worldcolorIf Taylor finds a better worldThe Taylor's gonna run awayyou