Lyrics

DC boys just seem to find out early
How to clear a checkpoint once or twice
An orange old man
Would never have to worry
They don’t make any dresses in his size

Late at night, Baltimore gets lonely
I can see the urge to head south on 95
But you aren’t Michael Rogers or Mr. Tony
Driving there just might not be so wise

But they head out to start drinking in the evening
And look at some fine skirts and evening gowns
They steal a car, and with confidence their teaming
They’re headed for the NSA side of town

We’re just spies, or cross-dressing guys
And our tights are a thin disguise
Most guys by now, would’ve realized
The NSA don’t jive with cross-dressing guys