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oh this man, this man, this man of mine he's got more nickels than he's got dimes so we climb aboard the ferris wheel and spin until our wounds are healed he found me out in bakersfield drunk and asleep behind the wheel while somewhere the trees just sit and wait and curse your name as you hesitate oh mister, mister, mister grouch has an angry crooked sort of mouth he eats and sleeps and guards the gate puts breakfast on his dinner plates and hates the way i wear my hair and beats me up but i don't care he loves me when i look my best and turns away when i undress my limbs won't move without the grease like i need you to rescue these little eggs i've left behind like i'd give you up to make you mine oh this man, this man, this man of mine he's got more nickels than he's got dimes so we climb aboard the ferris wheel and spin until our wounds are healed From Letras Mania