They say Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late   Complain, express ideas in her brain   Working on the night shift, passing out the tickets   You're gonna have to pay her if you want to park here      Well, mommy's little dancer has quite a little secret   Working on the streets now, never gonna keep it   It's quite an imposition and now she's only wishing   That she would have listened to the words they said      Poor Taylor, she just wanders around   Unaffected by the winter winds and she'll pretend   That she's somewhere else, so far and clear   About two thousand miles from here      Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window   But Sunny silhouette won't let him in   Poor old Pete's got nothing because he's been falling   Somehow Sunny knows just where he's been      He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul   Now that Saturday is gone   Sometimes he thinks that he's on his way   But I can see that his break lights are on      He just wanders around   Unaffected by the winter winds and he'll pretend   That he's somewhere else, so far and clear   About two thousand miles from here      Such a tough enchilada filled up with nada   Giving what she gotta give to get a dollar bill   Used to be a limber chicken, times a been a ticking      Now she's finger licking to the man   With the money in his pocket, flying in his rocket   Only stopping by on his way to a better world      If Taylor finds a better world then Taylor's gonna run away