Crouching on the cool white tile
SHe's got to learn to take her medicine
With a professional smile
Holy vessel or a toilet bowl
Puking hopes into a urinal
Sun like a blowtorch
Cuts through aluminum sky
Just like a crippled ballerina
In a pair of too-tight slacks
It's on her face, expensive tastes
But no excess of ready cash
She's completely gone
Oh, but you know she'll be back
She's living on a question mark
But spending exclamation points
It's perjury right from the start
She's only whistling in the dark
Evidence is thin in her defense
And as the prosecution rests
The jury's out, the mood is tense
They're only whistling in the dark
So many ways the game could go
Timer ticks out minutes left
Until it's going to blow
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