What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No. I go for the chandelier; it's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I love the cold. Thirty years later I get a postcard. I have a son. And he's the Chief of Police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.
But on a more serious note...
this is a story all about how
my life got flip-turned upside down
and I liked to take a minute and sit right there
and tell you how I became a prince of my own little square
In Southern California Born and raised
at the beach house was where i spent most of my days
Chillin' out, maxin, relaxin' all cool
Drinkin' some cold ones, out by the pool
When a couple of coworkers who were up to no good
started making trouble in my cubicle
I got in one lil' tiff and my recruiter didn't hear the end of it
said here's an awesome job in Georiga with great pay and benefits.
I packed up my stuff and drove in high gear
the trip was exhausting and I started to veer
if anything I can say that this opportunity was rare
but I thought now, forget it, Atlanta beware!!!
I pulled up to the house real early in the morning
Out of the truck I was practically snoring
I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there
to sit on my throne, all you ladies beware