Music in my mind. It'a curse. The golf course is closed. Too cold for fishing.
For Boo:
{Slow and sadly, with expression}
Am I the only one, to rest here in your arms?
Am I the only one, to ever taste your charms?
Was there another one, you loved before my time?
Can you help answer the doubts here in my mind?
{Raucous, up-tempo}
Because I know you're nothing' but a hooker!
You do what you do to just get paid!
Anyone can see that you're a looker,
And a man will do most anything if he can just get laid!
Throw in some 11th chords to make it jazz, Boo.
_________________________
DonM