Unaffected by the winter winds and she'll pretend
That she's somewhere else, so far and clear
About two thousand miles from here

Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window
But Sunny silhouette won't let him in
Poor old Pete's got nothing because he's been falling
Somehow Sunny knows just where he's been

He thinks that singing on Sunday is gonna save his soul
Now that Saturday is gone
Sometimes he thinks that he's on his way
But I can see that his break lights are on

He just wanders around
Unaffected by the winter winds and he'll pretend
That he's somewhere else, so far and clear
About two thousand miles from here

Such a tough enchilada filled up with nada
Giving what she gotta give to get a dollar bill
Used to be a limber chicken, times a been a ticking

Now she's finger licking to the man
With the money in his pocket, flying in his rocket
Only stopping by on his way to a better world

If Taylor finds a better world then Taylor's gonna run away