Margaret-tiger rug

It's Margaret, the daring songwriter
She's got muscles in her eyes
She's got everything going for her there
It's Margaret, the daring songwriter
She's got muscles in her eyes
She's got everything going for her there
So take a ride on her pen, step inside

Well, there goes Margaret, the daring ice skater
She skates the truth on the ice
If she wasn't so daring and dashing
Her lips would be chapped at half the price

It appears I sent you off to treatment
With the tiger by the tail
If he could be free
He wouldn't have stripes on him, like jail

Jailer comes in twice a day
And feeds him a hunk of meat
That is just the same
As you get out upon the street

Jungle's home
Why isn't he free?
Just because his head is doesn't mean his limbs are
That can mean the same as a monkey on a tree