Soldier Beetles
Lyrics
I hung out his washing to dry
And the horsemen did say
Oh don't you be doing his work, it will indeed never go 'way
But I have made home in his world, for I make the beds in the castle where am I to go
Oh, doe eyes, why does his footloose surprise you
You know my soft heart, is printed by those who don't choose
Howling at the moon
For the king, and his concubines leap
Dumbing down the news
Soldier beetles: infect the June
I made him a cake all my own
He gave it one bite
And fed it to his Lady Red
When he was out of my sight
But you can make home in my world
For I make the beds in the castle, where are you to go
Oh, dough hands, why does this songstress surprise you
You know my soft heart is molded by those who don't chew
Howling at the moon
For the king, and his concubines leap
Dumbing down the news
Soldier beetles: infect the June
Why don't you give a hand, to the one who make the bread
Oh Godly men, make their beds
I hung out his washing to dry
And the horsemen did say
Oh don't you be doing his work, it will indeed never go 'way
But I have made home in his world, for I make the beds in the castle where am I to go
Oh, doe eyes, why does his footloose surprise you
You know my soft heart, is printed by those who don't choose
Howling at the moon
For the king, and his concubines leap
Dumbing down the news
Soldier beetles: infect the June
I made him a cake all my own
He gave it one bite
And fed it to his Lady Red
When he was out of my sight
But you can make home in my world
For I make the beds in the castle, where are you to go
Oh, dough hands, why does this songstress surprise you
You know my soft heart is molded by those who don't chew
Howling at the moon
For the king, and his concubines leap
Dumbing down the news
Soldier beetles: infect the June
Why don't you give a hand, to the one who make the bread
Oh Godly men, make their beds
Writer(s): Bethany Terry
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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