I never got a grip on penmanship
Could never make the small L's flow
Seldom found the trick to arith-a-metic
Three plus two be faux, pas
But ask for some palm trees
Or tales from the South Seas
And I just might turn your head
I never had the clout to knock one out
But hittin' is the name of my game
Stranded on third as the coaches conferred
So close to my first claim to fame
Just give me that steal sign
And I'll make home plate mine
And I just might turn some heads
But sometimes I may get a little drastic
Sometimes I just let my feelin's show
Maybe I can be a bit sarcastic (wha'?)
But most times that's the way the story goes
Hey, I know this Joe down in Mexico
He went there to work on his tan
For years, he's been plugged into blenders and songs
They call him the Twelve Volt Man
He don't need no charge card
Just give him a Die Hard
And he'll make sparks fly 'round your head
Oh, just ask for some palm trees
And tales from the South Seas
And I'll make sparks fly 'round your head
In your head
In your head
