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You look really cute
Taking shots of whisky
behind the wheel
Driving to the abandoned house
So we can find old junk to steal
I wear your hat with the bite
and my golden pipecleaner bow
A typewriter, red-handed
Too many ghost-nuns and ouzo
With wrists clasped behind our backs
All I see are flashes of blue
With wrists clasped behind our backs
They won't even let me look at you
I draw all our animals
Just to keep myself grounded
Arrested and going to jail
I might as well have been found dead
But the house was haunted!
And all I took were aprons and photos
Still, they led us out together
You looked at me so sorry, so low
So sorry, so low
With wrists clasped behind our backs
Headed to the jailhouse on Main
With wrists clasped behind our backs
We kiss, and step into the rain
You look really cute
Taking shots of whisky
behind the wheel
But drop me off right here, sweetie
You can go on without me
I am free.