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What the Fizzle Dizzle

What the fizzle dizzle
Did I ever do
To deserve the aggravation
That I get from you?

Always stopping by
When we’re cooking food
Before we clear the table
You’re the disappearing dude

Ain’t got nothing nice to say
About anything I do
Nothing ever satisfies
A malcontent like you

You invite yourself along
On a Saturday night
Bringing trouble to the table
You start a bunch of fights

You’re a walking heap of hardship
A dispatcher of dread
What the fizzle dizzle
Goes on inside your head

by Richard W. Bray

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This entry was posted on June 2, 2015 at 3:24 pm and is filed under If it sounds country, Lyrics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.