The Wife, The Kids, and the White Picket Fence

Mail-order brides,
Turtlenecks and trophy wives.
Had the ways and means to breach,
The borders of Easy Street.
And to blend right in,
We all surrounded them,
In a white picket fence.
Now both ends meet . . .

Suffice it to say, there's a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.

Two peas in a pod,
A battle-axe and a bastard child,
Took one step more,
And went straight to the source.
And to blend right in,
They opened fire with,
Their rain checks spent.
To make ends meet . . .

Suffice it to say there's a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.

Go on, paint the whole town red,
I'd rather follow who cleans up the mess,
And so I wait . . .

Suffice it to say there's a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.



Credits
Writer(s): John Matthew Langley, Jon Dicken, Brett Stowers, Clifford Campbell, Andrew Sudderth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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