Alright
She lives by the sea in a funny little house
She’s got an african manager and some indian cows
She seems so distracted by the waves and the sand
She practises white magic on a black baby grand

It’s not about right or wrong
It’s just a little song

The people next door stole some chickens, everyone wants to be friends
Cindy is just a beautician practicing her self-defence
Joey is greasing the chevy tattooed and awful thin
Swearing that the light is heavy, dreaming about mortal sin

She rolls the dice to determine her future
You can walk in her shoes if you think that they suit ’ya
She can put on an accent, she can pull on a leg
To proud to beseech you, too humble to beg

Oh why don’t I belong
In a little song
It’s not about right or wrong
It’s just a little song