Fred Lane – Rubber Room lyrics

People stop and ask me about my wife
They think I, broke my arm

It's just imagination,
It's no big deal;
I never felt better, in my life

People stop and ask me about my broken arm (yeah)
They think I beat my wife

It's... the simplest dreams
I don't let it worry me
Cause-I'm in the prime, of my life...

Gonna go to the store, and purchase some hardware, my dear
Then I'll get in the car
Pick up some chicken
Arrive at your door
A-which I will be kickin'-in
Then I'll say, "What a day!, Whattya say, we both go have a drink or two?

Then I'll put it to your forehead
Put it to your temple
Put it to your midriff
I'll attempt to make a dimple

Then I'll put it in, put it in, put it in, put it in a-ho-

Then I'll put it to your eyeball
Put it ot your face-
Mix up a high-ball
Drink it to the master race

Then I'll put it in, put it in, put it in, put it in a-ho-

Eyeshade
Dropwave
Bondo
Fishfry
Bimbo
Cramshaft
Tincan
Luncheonette
Two-time
Byline
Spidel
Twist-o-flex
Playtex
Doorjam
Passport
Libido
Dipsum
Drip-dry
Skidrow
Crowfly
Backboard
Cheese curls
Estrus
Seven-up
Carpet
Doorjam
Kniick-knack
Roadtop
Estrogen
Meattoung
Vynil
Chloride
Checklist
Broomide
P.H. Donahue
Tobacco
Gumshoe
Bowtie
Tickertape
Stepwave
Prsotitute
Riff-raff
Car keys
Elbow
Knick-knack
Dispatch
Telephone
Misfits
Lunar
Six-pack
Chreeme cheese
Treacup
Sit down
Losose lips
Peatdown
Feelup
The wetdown
Build-up
The letdown
Let-up
The bigtop
A-sho-nuff
A leg drop

You build-up
The let-down

You build-up
The let-down

You build-up
The let-down

I don't slip on the tile
In a empty hospital;
I don't choke on my bile
Everythings' sunny weather

I'm a happy, sappy, son-of-a-gun;
Livin' in a rubber room