I am down to my last pair of underwear and it seems to me that it's long past time to do laundry. I swear, I never do anything until I absolutely have to, until everything is "past due." These deadlines seem to dominate my day I am subjected to their power; I am their prey They are looming, lurking, laughing in my face As I squirm in these ripped-up, granny "gotchies" in disgrace
The last pair of underwear is always the worst They never quite fit your full fanny I am the first to admit that I don't like the way it feels when things don't fit! So why do I let things get this bad? It seems to me that I have had my share of: Underwear Crises.
When I let things get this bad I am forced to reassess I am drowning in my sorrows, my passions, my mess Childish? I guess, but fruitful nonetheless.
Because I am standing at the washing machine I am poised, I am ready to clean these undergarments. They are sprinkled with a fresh clean smelling detergent I am poised, I am ready for change I am poised, I am really needing this change I am poised, I really which I had more change
Because I am down to my last quarter And the machine takes four more Guess it's time to resign? Or redefine!! WHO NEEDS UNDERWEAR ANYWAY??
The last pair of underwear is always the worst They never quite fit your full fanny I am the first to admit that I don't like the way it feels when things don't fit! So why do I let things get this bad? It seems to me that I have had my share of: Underwear Crises.
I'm going to lift my head up from despair Look at me change!
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Copy to Clipboard: I am down to my last pair of underwear and it seems to me that it's long past time to do laundry. I swear, I never do anything until I absolutely have to, until everything is "past due." These deadlines seem to dominate my day I am subjected to their power; I am their prey They are looming, lurking, laughing in my face As I squirm in these ripped-up, granny "gotchies" in disgrace
The last pair of underwear is always the worst They never quite fit your full fanny I am the first to admit that I don't like the way it feels when things don't fit! So why do I let things get this bad? It seems to me that I have had my share of: Underwear Crises.
When I let things get this bad I am forced to reassess I am drowning in my sorrows, my passions, my mess Childish? I guess, but fruitful nonetheless.
Because I am standing at the washing machine I am poised, I am ready to clean these undergarments. They are sprinkled with a fresh clean smelling detergent I am poised, I am ready for change I am poised, I am really needing this change I am poised, I really which I had more change
Because I am down to my last quarter And the machine takes four more Guess it's time to resign? Or redefine!! WHO NEEDS UNDERWEAR ANYWAY??
The last pair of underwear is always the worst They never quite fit your full fanny I am the first to admit that I don't like the way it feels when things don't fit! So why do I let things get this bad? It seems to me that I have had my share of: Underwear Crises.
I'm going to lift my head up from despair Look at me change!
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