Velvet Rope Blue Songtext
von Rob Roy

How ya don′t cha? Like a Colt, uh
45 on a flight to California
Off in the morning, from off in Georgia
But just a Florida boy that don't know how to grow up
At least supposedly, or maybe
Lady, let′s say we
Babies when we don't know what could save me and you
In place of an introduction for once or twice or a few luncheons ago
It might be known, I ain't trying to zone
Out on purpose, but with work that′s furthest from the bone I pick
She picks a pistol that I misinterpret as the wrong
Idea proposal, like postal or post


Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue
Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue, yea

Hey ya, beg ya pardon
Ain′t mean to bother, or grease the arms all up in the corners
But on my farm, uh, to be informal - you'd be a quarter
I′d be the pauper with the overalls on reading tomorrow's paper
My major is Aesop Fable Studies
To change the subject, not nature, of this nomenclature classification
I may just call ya, but naw, I′m too caught up in all the
Beauty parlor tricks and marmalade, and maybe vodka with a hint of also

Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue
Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue, yea
Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue
Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope, Velvet Rope Blue, yea