Texty: David Wilcox. Boob Job.

She had some extra money
She wanted to buy time
Her friends said it was dangerous
But they couldn't change her mind

She did if for her mirror
And for the ocean's summer sand
She just laid down to that scalpel
That was in the surgeon's hand

She got a boob job
She got a what?
A boob job, no, yeah?
Put a pad of silicone up against the breastbone
Treat her like a man made thing

Well, the surgeons try to tell you
That the world will love you better
If you let 'em cut your body
And make those mounds inside your sweater

Just think of the investment
Now how long those things will last?
You know like, silicone is permanent
Even after you have passed

When the rest of you has faded
In some box under some stone
Yeah, you'll still have your silicone
Balanced on your bones

She got a boob job
She got a what?
A boob job, no, yeah?
Put a pad of silicone up against the breastbone

Boob job, huh, well get down
Boob job, I pick 'em up again
Boob job, ah good God
Treat her like a man made thing, no