There she goes again

The old woman with her Irish Setter friend

Her hair's the color of his fur

(I can't tell, though, maybe that's a her)

They're always walking down the lane

Each time I'm at my windowpane

I'm wondering, maybe they're possessed?

An omen? Spies with lies to test?

But maybe they're okay?

Or a sign that things are goin' great?

Why you always takin' it south?

Why you always takin' it south, boy?

You see a girl's shoe in the woods

And say, "Now how can that be good?"

But hey, couldn't it have been a game

Of friends daring friеnds during a field trip?

Or snowmelt-displaced trash?

Might I just suggеst not taking the worst from the best?

Why you always takin' it south?

An invitation's at the door

And you scream, "What is this for?"

But hey, maybe it's a ticket to a memory yet to be?

Or a card with a stunning photograph?

Or a clever line that makes you laugh?

I'd like to request you stop mixing the cursed with the blessed

I'd like you to stop takin' it south