Grocery Girl

Cruisin' in my four-wheel mini souped up metal frame.
Drivin' down the old streets. They all the look the same.

Slowly pacing, prices stating quarter pound of meat.
Racing down the straight-away with veggies, fruit, and wheat.
Who could ask for better service taking baking street?

Oh no, but here she comes.

Wrap me, paper plastic baby. Double coupon checkout lady.
Grocery Girl.

Clean up, isle seven, cause she's spillin' out of heaven.
She's my Grocery Girl.

Scooping sugar candy corn with jerky in a bag.
Taster testing, brand name scoring, markup on the tag.

Freshly killed, the hunter stalks the ten percent less fat
Longer lasting, stronger standing. Take a look at that.
Ten items or less will rush me through to her for chat.

Oh no, but here she comes.

Wrap me, paper plastic baby. Double coupon checkout lady.
Grocery Girl.

Clean up, isle seven, cause she's spillin' out of heaven.
She's my Grocery Girl.