The Wife, the Kids, and the White Picket Fence Songtext
von Fair to Midland
The Wife, the Kids, and the White Picket Fence Songtext
Mail-order brides,
Turtlenecks and trophy wives.
Had the ways and means to breach,
The borders of Easy Street.
And to blend right in,
We all surrounded them,
In a white picket fence.
Now both ends meet . . .
Suffice it to say, there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Two peas in a pod,
A battle-axe and a bastard child,
Took one step more,
And went straight to the source.
And to blend right in,
They opened fire with,
Their rain checks spent.
To make ends meet . . .
Suffice it to say there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Go on, paint the whole town red,
I'd rather follow who cleans up the mess,
And so I wait . . .
Suffice it to say there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you′ll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Turtlenecks and trophy wives.
Had the ways and means to breach,
The borders of Easy Street.
And to blend right in,
We all surrounded them,
In a white picket fence.
Now both ends meet . . .
Suffice it to say, there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Two peas in a pod,
A battle-axe and a bastard child,
Took one step more,
And went straight to the source.
And to blend right in,
They opened fire with,
Their rain checks spent.
To make ends meet . . .
Suffice it to say there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you'll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Go on, paint the whole town red,
I'd rather follow who cleans up the mess,
And so I wait . . .
Suffice it to say there′s a time and a place so I wait,
For the tug-of-war and who you′ll pull for.
While between you and me from point A to point B is a fine line,
That burns at both our good ends.
Writer(s): Andrew Sudderth, Brett Stowers, Clifford Campbell, John Matthew Langley, Jon Dicken Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com