[Strophe]
       C                       C/B 
They say Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late 
 Am              F             C    C/B  Am  F 
complain, express ideas in her brain 
C                           C/B 
Working on the night shift, passing out the tickets, 
        Am                  F                    C   C/B  Am  F 
you're gonna have to pay her if you want to park here 
       C                         C/B 
Well, mommy's little dancer has quite a little secret 
Am                          F                 C  C/B  Am  F 
working on the streets now, never gonna keep it 
      C                      C/B 
It's quite an imposition and now she's only wishing 
      Am                    F                   C  C/B  Am 
that she would have listened to the words they said 
F 
Poor Taylor
[Refrain]
C            C/B             Am   F      C 
She just wanders around, unaffected by 
    C/B            Am  F               C 
the winter winds and she'll pretend that 
             C/B    Am   F             C 
she's somewhere else, so far and clear 
      C/B             Am 
About two thousand miles from here
[Strophe]
C             C/B                     Am    F 
Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window 
    C             C/B             Am    F 
but Sunny Silhouette won't let him in 
C                   C/B                         Am     F 
Poor old Pete's got nothing because he's been falling 
         C          C/B            Am      F 
Somehow Sunny knows just where he's been 
               C                          C/B         Am   F 
He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul 
C        C/B    Am         F 
now that Saturday is gone 
C            C/B                Am    F 
Sometimes he thinks that he's on his way 
          C    C/B  Am 
but I can see 
          F 
that his brake lights are on
[Refrain]
C            C/B             Am   F     C 
He just wanders around, unaffected by 
    C/B            Am  F                  C 
the winter winds and he'll pretend that 
      C/B            Am   F             C 
he's somewhere else, so far and clear 
      C/B             Am 
About two thousand miles from here
[Strophe]
        C                C/B 
Such a tough enchilada, filled up with nada 
Am                    F                   C    C/B  Am  F 
giving what she gotta give to get a dollar bill 
        C                    C/B 
Used to be a limber chicken, time's a been a ticking 
Am                       F 
Now she's finger licking to the man 
         C                    C/B 
With the money in his pocket, flying in his rocket 
Am                     F                 C    Dadd4add9   F 
Only stopping by on his way to a better world 
   G                      C   Dadd4add9   F 
If Taylor finds a better world 
     G                    C 
then Taylor's gonna run away