JIMINY CRICKET

Once there were footsteps pounding on my brow
That would kick me all about
Sit up straight fly right no matter my frown
And I had strings across my hands
Running from a punk green three inch man
Well that’s not the way I wanna live my days
I gotta pack in all the joy I can


Jiminey Cricket’s got nothin’ on me,
I’m running with a fever
And I’m skippin’ over seas
There ain’t a thing good or bad with me
I’m alright baby
Baby I’m alright


I gotta pity on all the girls
Bowing to a king of the world
Takin’ the mold of ladies with branded curls
And with my kitchen spoon in hand
I’m gonna poke ‘em till they understand
Well that’s not the way I wanna live my days
I gotta pack in all the joy I can