These Damn Trousers (Co-Write With Eddy Kent)
These damn trousers
They keep falling off of me,
I can't seem to keep them up
For they're too bloody big you see.
Every time I reach up
To get something off the mantle,
My trousers slide down my legs
And end off around my ankle.
When I hitch them up
They keep falling down,
It's p*ssing me off to no end
My face now wears a frown.
I've tried wearing suspenders
And I've tried wearing a belt,
I've even tied them up with string
But they just give my belly a welt.
People laugh wherever I go
I'm now the talk of the town,
Because of these damn trousers
I feel just like a clown.
You see, these are my brother's
What people call hand me downs,
And he is twice the size of me
By at least bloody fifty pounds.
Me, I'm kinda scrawny
Just skin and meatless bones,
Maybe I'll go out and buy
Some trousers of my own.
But I know what will happen
When I go to the shop,
I'll be standing, waiting for the bus
And my trousers will bloody drop.
I'm getting tired of being laughed at
So, I think I'll just stay home,
With these damn bloody trousers
The ones that aren't my own.
Copyright Cynthia Jones and Eddy Kent
July.25/2005
Eddy, this was as fun as bloody hell. Thank you for helping me with a few things. :o) I enjoyed writing with you. I hope we can do it again sometime.
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These Damn Trousers (Co-Write With Eddy Kent)
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