Lyrics He's Got His Mother's Hips - John Grant

I think Colonel Mustard
Did it in the billiard room
Yeah yeah

They say his salsa workshops
Are a harbinger of doom
Yeah yeah

He's takin' itsy bitsy
Super pointy stipsies
Straight to the middle of the Dancefloor

He does the Hokey Pokey
Now the room is getting smokey
He won't read you your rights
Before they turn out the lights

He's got his mother's hips
He does the dippity dip
He's got delicious quips

He's got his mother's hips
He thinks he's going downtown
And now he's smacking his lips

He. Does. Not. Speak
Your. Language
Watch your back
His tongue is super dangerous

He's got his thigh-highs
And his roller-skates ON
You are rolling the dice
He wants you on thin ICE

He's serving cheese fondue
ON the polar bear rug
But the room is bugged

You got MESMERIZED by the lava lamp
But now the carpet's damp
He's tryin' to sell you some stamps

He's got his mothers' hips
He's on an ego trip
He's got sartorial tips

He's got his mother's hips
He thinks he's going downtown
And now he's smackin' his lips

He's got his mother's hips
He does the dippity dip
He's got delicious quips
Now baby

He's got his mother's hips
He thinks he's goin' downtown
And now he's smackin' his lips