Kick It Up

Hey
Where you been
Can I say
You look thin

Would you climb a mountain
For me
Quit your silly poutin'
And you'll see

There's cash in my pocket
For you
You look like Davy Crockett
It's true

I can't make heads or tails
Of your life
'cause logic always fails
And you're a trifle off

But that's why
You put me through the wringer
Don't wanna make you cry
Don't wanna smell your finger

Wearing trassles
'round the cauldron
Fed up with hassles
That's what they called 'em

I kid you not
That's what I heard
Too hot to trot
It sounds absurd

But I'm a witness
To the kind of stink
That you get from fitness
At the roller rink

So save your dookie
For the next round
Just another flookie
With a wrecked sound