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You don't act up too much |
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My sweet hunk o' trash |
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My, my how you sound |
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You're very short on looks |
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Dumb, when it comes to books |
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Look out, baby, watch it, honey |
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You're just a good for nothin' |
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But my sweet hunk o' trash |
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And you stay full of corn |
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Just like a succotash |
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What you want me to do |
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In my idle moments |
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Let me get a word in there, honey |
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You running your mouth |
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You said I've worried you for years |
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I'm just a barfly moochin' beers |
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While you sweat over |
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A hot stove slinging hash |
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Work my fingers right down to the elbows |
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Yes, I may be good for nothin' |
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But I'm still your sweet hunk o' trash |
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First to admit it, baby |
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You said I spread my love all around |
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And with the chicks all over town |
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But, how can I when you keep me broke |
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So I can't spend no cash |
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Yes, I may be good for nothin' |
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But I'm still your sweet hunk o' trash |
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Listen hear pops |
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You know you lie about your youth |
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I don't lie, baby |
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I'm just careless with the truth, that's all |
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How careless can you be |
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Oh, no |
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With all your chicks, you try to make a flash |
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Now baby, it ain't like that, no |
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But you're still my good for nothin' |
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My sweet hunk o' trash |
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Now when you stay out very late |
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It sure makes me mad to wait |
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How come, baby? |
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'Cause, you come home too tired |
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To raise just one eyelash |
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Watch it, baby, watch it |
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You're just good for nothin' |
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But you're my sweet hunk o' trash |
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Yes indeed |
