Texty: Horse Feathers. Helen.

I just heard the news,
a new one is on your line.
I just heard the news,
it's taking all my time.

What will you do
when I'm fine?
What will I write
when I'm fine?

I just heard the news,
a new one is on your line.
Legs they're wrapped around,
a victim by surprise.

What will you do
when I'm fine?
What will I write
when I'm fine.

Helen, if you called my name you know I'd go.
In much the same way the sun steals the snow.
I've been burned by the heat two bodies make.
A little bird told me that your type is too ripe to take.