You've got me sitting on your mantle like a little glass figurine
Why must you be so mean?
Don't you know I've got better things to do
I'm like a mail order product from a housekeeping magazine
How utterly embarrassing,
Well lady I'm not going to dance that dance
Let the giraffes do it, let the sad clown cry
Your porcelain kisses are not going to turn me shy

No, I'm not your little boy,
Your rosy-cheeked joy,
Though the thought of you makes me sanguine
I'll do anything you want
But I won't be your glass figurine

Let the giraffes do it, let the sad clown cry
Your porcelain kisses are not going to turn me shy
No, I'm not your little boy,
Your rosy-cheeked joy,
Though the thought of you makes me sanguine
I'll do anything you want
But I won't be your glass figurine
I'm like a mail-order product from a housekeeping magazine
I'll do anything you want
But I won't be your glass figurine

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): ANDREW WEGMAN BIRD