Adam Sandler - Sweat Beatrice - Sözleri

Hanging with my sweet amourShe came out with a lion's roarYelling, "I'm going to the corner store,Be back at quarter to four""Don't slam your pinkies in the drawer"She can be like a maiden from the days of yoreHanging out at Studio 54Break dancing on the slick brick disco floorWith Lionel RichieWho, by the way, was a CommodoreOne time she gave mouth-to-mouth to a snaggle tooth boarWho couldn't breat right since the Vietnam WarThen she played Chinese Checkers with SkeletorAnd went camping with Eva GaborShe's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceAnd she's coming homeI got a picture of her down by the seashoreWearing a bikini made of purple velourHer hair's up like Conway Twitty's pompadourWith the smile of Guy LeFleurShe got the ups and downs like an elevatorBut deep inside she's a marshmellow smoreCan bake a cake as big as JupitorEither or, Neithor norShe'll share it with your LabradorShe can run faster than a blazing meteorLoves Winnie the Pooh and his friend EeyoreCan make a pipe out of an apple coreThat's a trick she learned from Roberto ParrishDown in EcuadorYou know why?She's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceAnd she's coming homeWell, for sure she opened the doorWhipped out a 3-ft fishing lureSexually, that made me insecureLike the time I was a roadieOn Elton John's tourShe said, "Let's go catch some Piscatore!"I said, "Beatrice, you don't eat fish no more."She said, "By God, you're right!"So we took ourselves a snoreAnd when we woke up 10 hours laterWe made Love Du JourShe's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceShe's my sweet BeatriceAnd she came homeShe likes to clean out the attic every now and thenShe's gonna knit me a brand new golfing bagWe gonna watch ourselves a John Wayne movieThen we gonna free all the doggies at the kennelShe gonna try on my third grade mittensShe'll keep 'em on even though they're way too smallWell, she ain't never gonna hurt meShe ain't never gonna let me downShe ain't never gonna tell nobodyI'm afraid of birds and spidersWell, Bea-bea-bea-beatriceBea-bea-bea-beatriceBea-bea-bea-beatriceBea-bea-bea-beatriceBea-bea-bea-beatriceBea-bea-bea-beatriceAnd she loves Pat Summerall


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