Lisa's got her red shoes on
> Lisa's got her red shoes on, > Lisa's got her red shoes on, > She'll have them on all day long, > an' all day long she'll sing this song.
> Lisa's got her red shoes on, > Lisa's got her red shoes on, > She'll have them on all day long, > an' all day long she'll sing this song.
"No, Mom," says Lisa. "It isn't an insect. It means something like you're good at something. Or smart."
"Is it a little bit red," my wife asks when I tell here about it, "I once say a reddish colour that I didn't know."
I'm starting to sweat. Where are the police when you need them. Out blowing into people's windows, probably.
"I'm not American Military." I say to him. "I'm neither American nor Military. I come by my baldness honestly." I add.
The mice in my house seem to figured out how to get at a hunk of inside a hard plastic click-locking container, INSIDE the FRIDGE!
"I'm not a woman," I say, "I can't use an umbrella when it isn't raining."