From the Fr?vous quill comes a story tale of love and illin' Romeo found the balconey too high, ended up with second billin' She loved in triplicate, left his heart a blank too fill in Lost his faith imaculate when Cupid became a villain
CHORUS: B.J. don't cry no more Wonders what his heart is beating for He says he takes it muhc too hard Give my regards to B.J.
In a fit of rage he tore down all her gifts and promises Sick and tired of hearing 'bout those Harry, Dick and Thomases Banished her for life he did, right then and there, from the premises Onle his holy virgin queen, now on the scene, his nemesis
CHORUS
He thought about his life, his heart began to rush He buried the crown, found a bucket and a brush B.J. paints town...
Now on the street our wounded soul is looking quite Gregarial Heart or tin has shed his skin, given it a hefty burial As with logic, as with reason, as with science actuarial Rallied 'round the Fr?vous flag burnt the kitchen, raised the aerial
CHORUS
Turn it over little man He took a trip, B.J.'s on a train Far far away, he'll be back again one rainy day
So there we have a story lived in person told by proxy 'Bout a mild-mannered mannequin, every Sunday hit the Roxy Till there his own reflection, showed him his orthodoxy Now he hikes the Himalayas, stuffs his letters full of moxie!
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Copy to Clipboard: From the Fr?vous quill comes a story tale of love and illin' Romeo found the balconey too high, ended up with second billin' She loved in triplicate, left his heart a blank too fill in Lost his faith imaculate when Cupid became a villain
CHORUS: B.J. don't cry no more Wonders what his heart is beating for He says he takes it muhc too hard Give my regards to B.J.
In a fit of rage he tore down all her gifts and promises Sick and tired of hearing 'bout those Harry, Dick and Thomases Banished her for life he did, right then and there, from the premises Onle his holy virgin queen, now on the scene, his nemesis
CHORUS
He thought about his life, his heart began to rush He buried the crown, found a bucket and a brush B.J. paints town...
Now on the street our wounded soul is looking quite Gregarial Heart or tin has shed his skin, given it a hefty burial As with logic, as with reason, as with science actuarial Rallied 'round the Fr?vous flag burnt the kitchen, raised the aerial
CHORUS
Turn it over little man He took a trip, B.J.'s on a train Far far away, he'll be back again one rainy day
So there we have a story lived in person told by proxy 'Bout a mild-mannered mannequin, every Sunday hit the Roxy Till there his own reflection, showed him his orthodoxy Now he hikes the Himalayas, stuffs his letters full of moxie!
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