Oh let the sun beat down upon my clothes,
Boobs stretching seams.
I'll unravel if I catch a snag,
To wear when I have green.
To sit with sisters wearing gentle lace,
The stores have often seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and bitch,
Price tags are revealed.

Talk of sex from tongues of wasted space,
Thong protects my rear.
And not a bra I wore could I relate,
The sweater was quite clear.

Ooh baby I've been findin,
Oh yeah mama in all my buying.
Ooh yes I been findin,
Mama, is out for buying.

All I see turns light brown,
As the sale comes to town.
And my cash fills my hand,
As I scan this sweater land.
Trying to buy, trying to find what I've seen.

Oh outfit of the girl whose name is Grace,
Her skirt fits like a dream,
Left the guy that led her to this place,
Shallow girls now scream.
Like Master-card beneath the scanning tool,
I will return again,
As the cards now maxed remind you,
We'll move in search of Kashmir.

Oh father of the billfold pays my bills,
Costs the sum of years.
With no provision but an open hand,
Among his case of beer.

Oh when I shop, when I'm on my way,
When I see, when I see the clothes I stay.
But It's tan.
But It's tan, so tan.
Ooh my baby,
Ooh my baby,
Let me take you home.