Darla

Darla, they've brought your eggs into my kitchen
I know you're wishin' your bones weren't so soft
But your cage is just too small to move in,
We're fucking groovin' in the city
It's a pity that you can't be groovin' too, boo.

And I know that you weren't born for a pot pie,
That you weren't born for the cage in life
And I know that your ovulation's private
And you're ready to be fertilized.

Darla, you never said you were unhappy
Or you feel crappy
Never said anything at all
But I know you know you're not living the good life
If I could I'd pick lock you free,
You'd live with jeff and me on fairmount st.
That'd be neat.

And I know that you weren't born for a pot pie,
That you were born for the cage in life
And I know that your ovulation's private
And you're ready to be fertilized.