Slap Leather

take all the money that you need for school and
to keep the street people in outta the cold.
spend it on a weapon you can never use,
make the world an offer that they can't refuse.
open up the door and let the shark men feed,
Hoover of the future in the land of greed,
sell the Pondarosa to the Japanese,
slap leather, head for that line of trees, yeah.
slap leather. go on, run. just about to go myself.

turn the whole wide world into a TV show,
so its just the same game wherever you go.
you never meet a soul that you don't already know,
one big advertisement for the status quo.
as if these celebrities were you close friends,
as if you knew how the story ends
as if you ain't sittin' in a room alone
and there was somebody real at the other end of the phone, yeah!
squibnocket, PHONE SEX!
just about to dial your number.

get all worked up so we could go to war,
we'd find something worth a' killin' for.
tie a yellow ribbon around your eyes,
big mac, falafel and a side of fries, yeah!
big mac falafel
stormin' Norman,
i just a' love a parade!
slap leather.
phone love.
big mac falafel.
just about to dial myself.



Credits
Writer(s): James Taylor
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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