She can see about four satellites
Every minute of the hour
And find a four leaf clover
Where you never saw a flower
She's habitually paradoxical, a Parallel Perpendicular.

Barefoot in nightgowns,
That's how she dances in the rain
Sundown to Sundown, like she was washing away her pain;

As she is beatiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her?
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's impossible to bait her.

She can really be a handful
Like the brownes that she bakes you
It can be a tad hysterical,
But never quite the breakthrough
She's some kind of an epitome, the sea of intranquility.

In flimsy nightgowns, barefoot she dances in the rain
Sundown to Sundown, like she was washing away her pain;

As she is beatiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her?
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's an impossible debate.