± BPM (tempo): ♩ = 142 beats per minute
You think it’s new, But it is not new. I cannot wait To see the look On your face. ‘Cause someone’s gonna prick That bovine balloon Wrinkled little boxing glove. Someone’s gonna tell you, “No, you can’t,” And I think you might explode. You think we’re fooled, But we are not fooled. You think it’s hard, But you’re doing the easiest Thing. And someone’s gonna burst Your blood-blubber head, Even little children see through you. Someone’s gonna pull Your big trousers down, And I think you might explode. So go home And squat in the basement now, Sing me a song from your dead-eyed scroll, Witless and rank as a fat-filled hole. I’m tired and you are ridiculous, God for a clown and a clown for a pig, Ever so small but you think it’s big, I know! You are ridiculous, Rubbery legs gonna march all night, Tell me again ‘cause it makes me smile.