Lyrics John Grant – He’s Got His Mother’s Hips
Text:
I think Colonel Mustard did it in the billiard room, yeah yeah
They say his salsa workshops are a harbinger of doom, yeah yeah
He’s takin’ itsy bitsy super pointy stipsies
Straight to the middle of the dancefloor
He won’t read you your rights before they turn out the lights
He’s got his mother’s hips
He does the dippity dip
He’s got delicious quips
He’s got his mother’s hips
He thinks he’s going downtown
And now he’s smacking his lips
He does not speak your language
Watch your back, his tongue is super dangerous
He’s got his thigh-highs and his roller-skates on
You are rolling the dice, he wants you on thin ice
He’s serving cheese fondue
On the polar bear rug but the room is bugged
You got mesmerized by the lava lamp
But now the carpet’s damp, he’s tryin’ to sell you some stamps
He’s got his mothers’ hips
He’s on an ego trip
He’s got sartorial tips
He’s got his mother’s hips
He thinks he’s going downtown
And now he’s smackin’ his lips
He’s got his mother’s hips
He does the dippity dip
He’s got delicious quips now baby
He’s got his mother’s hips
And now he’s smackin’ his lips
