You walk into the room With a pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you say, "Who is that man?" You try so very hard But you don't understand What you'll say When you get home
Chorus And you know something is happening here But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones
You raise up your head And you ask, "Is this where it is?" And somebody points to you and they say "It's his" And you say, "What's mine?" And then somebody else says, "Well, what is?" And you say, "Oh my God Am I here all alone?"
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You pay for your ticket And you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And he asks you how it feels To be such a freak And you say, "Impossible" As he hands you a bone
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You have many contacts Among the lumberjacks Who keep you supplied with facts When someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect (note 1) Anyway they already expect you To just give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations
You've been with the professors And they all like your looks With great lawyers you have Discussed lepers and crooks You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books You're very well read It's well known
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The sword swallower comes up to you And then he kneels He crosses himself And then he clicks his high heels Without further notice He asks you how it feels And he says, "Here is your throat back Thanks for the loan"
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You see this one-eyed midget And he's shouting the word "Now" You say, "What's the matter?" And he says, "How?" And you say, "What does this mean?" And he screams back, "You're a cow Give me some milk Or else go home"
[chorus]
Well, you walk into the room Like a camel and then you frown Your eyes in your pocket And your head on the ground There ought to be a law Against you comin' around You should be made To wear earphones
[chorus]