ARCA: The big, fat important thing

When she was just a girl she loved windex
But it didn't work like oxiclean
So she ran away in her sleep and dreamed of
Para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise
Every time she washed some things

When she was just a girl she expected the best
But it wouldn't work for her and it never would
Carrying anvils, so heavy
The think breaks the sad girl breaks her really sore back
In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes
In the night shed come alive

And think of para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise

She'd love the para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise

La-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
And so lying underneath those dirty walls
She'd say, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
I know the oxiclean will help"

This will be para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise

This may be para-para-paradise
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

This could be para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise

This might be para-para-paradise
Oh oh oh oh oh oh, oh, oh

This could be para-para-paradise
Para-para-paradise

This could be para-para-paradise
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh