I'm gonna tell my son to grow up pretty as the grass is green
And whip-smart as the English Channel's wide
And I'm gonna tell my son to keep his money in his mattress
And his watch on any hand between his thighs
And I'm gonna lock my son up in a tower till I write my whole
On the back of his big brown eyes
When they do the double dutch, they stand tensies
When they do the double dutch, they stand tensies
And I'm gonna tell my son to join the circus so that death is
And games are just another way of life
And I'm gonna tell my son to be a prophet of mistakes
Because for every truth there are half a million lies
And I'm gonna lock my son up in a tower till
He learns his hair down far enough to climb outside
When they do the double dutch, they stand tensies
When they do the double dutch, they stand tensies