Lyrics

I'm gonna tell my son to grow up pretty as the grass is green And whip-smart as the English Channel's wide And I'm gonna tell my son to keep his money in his mattress And his watch on any hand between his thighs And I'm gonna lock my son up in a tower Till I write my whole life story on the back of his big brown eyes When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing I'm gonna tell my son to join a circus so that death is cheap And games are just another way of life And I'm gonna tell my son to be a prophet of mistakes Because for every truth there are half a million lies And I'm gonna lock my son up in a tower Till he learns to let his hair down far enough to climb outside When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing When they do the double dutch, that's them dancing
Writer(s): Trevor Horn, Petrus Maneli, Malcolm Robert Andrew Mclaren, Liz Phair Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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