The Dirtiest Album Ever Recorded* — Vol 3 (Finale) · Track 4 · middle
Sugar Walls
PARODY, laundered-double-entendre album (Vol 3, the finale). Write ORIGINAL wholesome lyrics that SOUND suggestive from the title but are LITERALLY and innocently about building and decorating a gingerbread house. The dirty mind is the listener's — the song is clean, DistroKid/YouTube-safe, G-to-PG. Vintage register to era. ⛔ CRITICAL COPYRIGHT RULE: do NOT reproduce, quote, or lightly paraphrase the source song's CHORUS/HOOK or ANY distinctive lyric line (even the famous tag line). Suno's filter WILL reject it and it creates real copyright liability. Borrow ONLY the general TITLE idea. Invent a completely fresh hook about building and decorating a gingerbread house. Source parodied (idea only, never its words): Sugar Walls (1984).
Lyrics
The kitchen smells like ginger, cinnamon, and burnt sugar. The calendar on the wall says December 18, 1952. It’s getting dark outside. Grandma Elsie pulls her starched apron tight. A dusting of flour on her sleeve, just so. She lays the brown panels on the waxed paper, across the scrubbed pine table. And Little Tommy, he's just seven, his eyes are as wide as peppermint wheels. He sees the bowls of candy buttons, the silver dragees like tiny stars, a whole world waiting to be built. Come on, let's raise the sugar walls, sweet and high and strong. With royal icing holding tight, where happy dreams belong. Oh, these sugar walls, so good and true. A house for me and you. Elsie takes the parchment cone, her hand is steady, a practiced art. She pipes a line of thick, white glue, a sweet and sugary start. Tommy takes a gumdrop, his little fingers press it on the roof. He pops one in his mouth when she's not looking, that's the honest truth. She just pretends she doesn't see it. Come on, let's raise the sugar walls, sweet and high and strong. With royal icing holding tight, where happy dreams belong. Oh, these sugar walls, so good and true. A house for me and you. A pastel path of candy buttons leads right up to the door. We line the eaves with peppermints, there's always room for more. The sharp sweet scent of lemon zest is hanging in the air. A fragile, perfect, tiny thing we built with so much care. A window pane of melted butterscotch. A chimney made of licorice. Standing tall... those sugar walls. So sweet inside... these sugar walls. Yeah. Our sugar walls.