She Chose Me
See the word walking down the street.
She says, “I’ve got me a purple bag and a great big green bag on my head.
I don’t believe there’s not a symphony, and there’s not concrete enough to hold me.”
I say, “Where are you going with that purple eyeliner,
And humongous blue sash of an ostrich feather?
How will you run on emu toes, if your echidna beak is all filled with clothes?”
“I don’t know, what’ cha gonna give me now?
What’ cha gonna give me now? Is it worth my time?”

Every Sunday she get sharp, goes along and plays a part.
She don’t know what she’s watching ‘cause she never looks out for much.
I can’t keep along in style. I’m just a frisbee by her side. I can’t keep out of touch.
She’s long, slender and pretty mean. She can live and lie in between. She’s got guts!
She tells me things about my quiet. I don’t run around in a riot
While she walks through it all untouched. In fact, she’s unscathed.
I know there’s a ribbon on a highway that touts her name.
She’s a billboard sign. She’s the kind of glitter that adorns any apple.
Then she chose me. Then she chose me. Lord, what is she thinking of?

You see I am a rural street urchin with my feet up on a Persian, but I don’t cry too much.
It doesn’t matter if my nose is long, my teeth are crooked, and I sing my songs lousy loud.
Stepping up High Boot Street She has a long list of people to meet.
She was on her way, until she likes me. She says she’ll be mine. She likes me. She says she’ll be mine. She chose me. She chose me. She chose me. Will I ever get to sing your song alive?
(Lead Break)
She can run high, all fly, slipstream airplane in the sky, with any guy, with any guy.
That’s ok if she swings from trees, Adam just found her Eve, that’s ok, that’s ok.
Tarzan and Jane, don’t explain, what she does to me. Ha, ha, ha
I don’t care where she goes. I know I can wear her clothes any day she wants me to
She chose me. She chose me. She chose me. She chose me!


(Omitted) –
That’s ok, ‘cause I can play. Didn’t I ask my Owner to stay? Now, I’m here with you.

Looking back when streets are fire. I can’t feel. I won’t expire. It’s lie time.
And if I drive it up too slow loading up those who know. It’s my time!
Living in the streets, ha, don’t stop your feet baby. I’m here to please.
It’s open season and I am a menu, guess I have those bird long legs
She likes me. She likes to say she’ll be mine.
She likes me. She’ll say, she’ll be mine.
She chose me. She chose me. She chose me. She chose me!