Arouse The Thunder
C
They call her Miss Divisive on the street.
She put the spit in hospitality
Strandy hair parted around the ears
under her sweater’s a purple chiffon brassiere
F G
She turns me on flips me off
E Am
she’s not a hag puts me in a vacuum cleaner bag
F E
whips it out plugs it in
F G G
hits the switch and I hear the roar
C G G7
she could surely arouse the thunder
C
of the mighty Thor.
Her poppa was a no count swingin single
hooked his thumb in her momma's waistband.
The shine on her shoulder never used her education.
Her legs belong in the museum of erotic transportation.
CHORUS
A little wild around the edges,
wearing a uniform, pushing a stroller full of fried chicken,
she takes some downs to reach out & touch the future
& me, I'm smelling something I'd like to stick my ribs to-
Campbell's Soup/ She never wash the clothes she wear.
CHORUS