"Play Around" genre: Pop
	lo fi play (dial-up) hi fi play (broadband)	email track to a friend	add to My.MP3
	Our attempt at Sublime meets G. Love.
	CD: Notes From Aboveground   Label: Augean Stables Credits: Lyrics by Wilson Rothman; Music by Clint Bierman
	Lyrics Play around with the words 'til they all seem to fit See if they sound good from where you are sitting It's just another thought, to know what you are thinking If I spend too long then you'll know that I've been drinking It goes like this, you don't have the proper nouns, Not the "proper" ones but the big fat nouns Like Sony Playstation, Ken L Ration, Sidewinder, Mac Finder, the United Nations Seven Eleven and Seven-Up, Happy Scrappy Hero Pup, A Fish Called Wanda and a Folger's Crystal cup, What you want is French cuisine and I'm giving you Mickey-D's, But they both will make you fat, besides you didn't say please How about adverbs, you know the adverbs, They work into a sentence like spaghetti and herb The old boys quickly fled, mysteriously they fled As the worldly world turned black with dread You got "soundly" like defeat, "hungrily" as in eat, You want to go lightly better give up your seat Cuz I'm trapped inside of me, I can't see what you can see, You want poetry, you want revelry, I need therapy You want Shakespeare's choicest, Another guy's voice, Can you catch the lingo from all the other boys? I'm just a lonely martyr I don't drive a Rolls Royce You want limousine, you want plasticine, you want the made-up words like Tatooine, You want lemonade, you want Rubbermaid, you want to kill bugs dead with a can of Raid, You want speakerphone you want Home Alone 3, you got the fever for the flavor of TLC, I'm talking naugahide, and how 'bout regicide, anything to take your mind off of the TV Guide. I'm hip to the feelings that you're feeling, But I'm having my say cuz you know my mind is reeling, Just before American Psycho was printed, Sony Walkman MS-DOS it's the words that were minted Op Sys or a player, Buffy Vampire Slayer, Gotta talk movie deals over lunch with the mayor But you're home around ten, you head into the den You call your friend Ben, and you watch a little Ren, This is the truth, vanilla/chocolate truth Behind the mask of Wavy Gravy and Baby Ruth Look out Butterfinger, you better not linger Master of Disaster did you have to let it linger? I'm hip to the tuning of your tune but it's gotta be my way or else live on Neptune The words they'll come out like butter, the words they'll come out and make you shudder I'm not an autocrat, but I'm not a diplomat either, like 1963 I got Automat fever The fever the flavor the Pringles the can, double-dipping French dip like I got no other plan You want a Diner's Club, I got sandwich of the week, You want American Express I got the image that's sleek You wanted cash but I got store credit You wanted regular but I got unleaded I got a gold card from the local deli I got a picture of a girl whose name is Kelly I got a hot car, cool bar, wet bar, fast car I got a snorkel to go snorkeling at an island called Del Mar My name is The Rid and I'm down with Willy J Find the Augean Stables and you win a bale of hay? Play around from the top of the key See if it's cool down under that tree Another time and place and you might feel free But here and now you've got to see me as me

Copyright notice. All material on MP3.com is protected by copyright law and by international treaties. You may download this material and make reasonable number of copies of this material only for your own personal use. You may not otherwise reproduce, distribute, publicly perform, publicly display, or create derivative works of this material, unless authorized by the appropriate copyright owner(s).