T.W.D.A.M.O.

Her love is like dragging your balls across barbed wire
She rehearses every day from a hang glider

She had a wrestling bout
With a troop of local sea scouts
Got them all in a pool of mud
All the time wearing boxing gloves
You can hear them crying from the third floor above

That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...

She wears pit boots, woodbines and loves being dirty
Her bank manager plays dog, says "woof!" and "don't hurt me!"

You've seen her magazines
How the hell does she keep her teeth clean?
Doing something that's loosely termed love
All the time wearing boxing gloves
She's got the cheek to say she's on a mission from God

That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...

(gutteral, inaudible speaking)

You've seen her magazines
How the hell does she keep her teeth clean?
Doing something that's loosely termed love
All the time wearing boxing gloves
She's got the cheek to say she's on a mission from God

That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...
That's what dreams are made of...