Goodie goodie, lets crack a big woody
There goes Mr Two shoes and he’s walkin on water
Goodie goodie, onstensibly could he
buy up this town and put it back together

His silence is golden his gun heavy leaden
ammo out is the scenario he’s dreading
a holster on each hip and a pocketful of clips
greased lightning its square to be pipped to be hip

ketones, totally aromatic and high,
sealed with bright wax, on an all-time high
just caught a glimpse of him steaming past
in the misty mirrors, time moves backwards, forward to past

How can I thank you, Mr Two Shoes?
What is the best way to show my thanks?
Two tankloads of gas, a tankard of beer?
a jingling jangling guitar-song of thanks

crank the engine over, engineers spin past wild
spinning a yarn of hope and blind narrative
wily will smiley killing him softly
farewell mr two two shoes, if thats your attitude

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