 |
|
|
|
|
This here’s the story about
Dumb, dumb george,
Who came up to boston
One sunny afternoon.
He drove up from new york city,
And he was freaky,
And he wanted to record me,
And I said,
George,
You’re dumb.
And he said, I know.
Why do you think I make so much money.
I wanna do
A record
That’ll make number one.
Dumb, dumb.
Read more lyrics about / on: money, numb
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
