Decorator, oh could you help me pimp my cribYou see the paint on the walls is old and faded
I'm livin in NY
With my best old tattered digs...
A couch she said she knew well and sometimes hated
Isn't that the way they say it goes
Hand-me-down sofas...
So give me your number and wholesale access
To Schumacher fabric
I've overcome the blow
I've learned to take it well
I only wish my words could just convince myself
***That it just wasn't real***
But that's not the way it feels
Decorator, oh could you help me make this call
'Cause I'm just not sold on cerulean velvet
There's something in my eye's
You know it happens every time
I think about the throw-rugs I thought would save me...
5 comments:
I heart this so, so, so much!!! I change the lyrics to songs to suit whatever is on my mind ALL THE TIME! I did it with "It's the Hard Knock Life" just yesterday (simultaneously imagining the Jay-Z and Annie versions), but plugged one of my cat's names throughout. If I were closer, I'd help you rock your crib. It's one of my favorite things to do. Perhaps paint one wall....
dude. how could you not be into cerulean velvet.
also, thanks for getting this song stuck in my head! erg!
A design anthem - fantastic!
P.S. Designers' Brew sent me over. Your blog is 14 shades of magnificent.
dude, you just arent real. you are too good, untouchable, and muy muy bonita.
If I could save paint in a bottle...
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