Whose Idea Was Songtext
von Tom Smith

Exactly
Whose idea was making out in the backseat?
There′s nowhere to put my elbows, nowhere to put your feet,
It's not wide enough for a moonlight tryst,
It′s not long enough, I'm gonna sprain my wrist.


Why are we
Naked on cold vinyl so far out of town?
Risking hypothermia, or cops with flashlights and a frown?
We had a fancy dinner, we ate so well,
But I'd prefer Mickey D′s and a cheap mo-

Tell me that you love me, tell me you′ll be true,
Tell me that this isn't happening ′cause we didn't know what else to
Do,
This tangle couldn′t get much denser.
Your smile kicks me out of MENSA.

Exactly
Whose idea was making love in the backseat?
I'm thinkin′ that this Lincoln bedroom won't make us complete,
Although the thought of Continental breakfast can't be beat...