|
She complained, you look different, yeah, but I'm keeping my name |
|
You're not drinking the usual, I said it all tastes the same |
|
She fled, you smell like L.A., yeah, but check out my new frames |
|
You know these cool shades make you look bitching |
|
Oh, she split from our table mumbling remember to tip |
|
I had a twenty in ready but I said I might skip |
|
Some people act funny when you're just trying to be hip |
|
Oh, spend a little time outside the kitchen |
|
Magnificent miles, trying out this new walk |
|
And people are watching, it's like stepping on chalk |
|
Learning curves behind like a memory stalks |
|
But in all it's an innocent mission |
|
She rang late last night, said that wasn't you, was it? |
|
I said all colors of money are fit for deposit |
|
Half naked right now, I've got soup in the closet |
|
Oh, it's sometimes with words I'm just fishing |
|
Should I come over? It sounds like you need me |
|
I said, hey, that's funny, you sound like my TV |
|
Just try this thing once, it'll make life so easy |
|
And even puppies come under suspicion |
|
Then a lover came knocking, I opened the door |
|
With an apple in my hand, she said, what's that core? |
|
It's the past and the future, but I shouldn't say more |
|
And that's just my radio hissing |
|
Well, I know you too well and I know you're no villain |
|
I said, don't look now 'cause I'm ripping off Dylan |
|
What you see is a little crusty, the real thing's the fillin' |
|
The sound bite from a verbal beautician |
|
All the jokers in this world, they're swarming like bees |
|
Catch one to the head, make you fall to your knees |
|
Lenny Bruce was a prophet in the 1960's |
|
Two shows at tonight's inquisition |
|
And drifted and dreaming, lost in the bed |
|
Body's ups and down are just food for the head |
|
It's front page and French fries or the funny pages instead |
|
We tickle the truth into submission |
|
All in all it's an innocent mission |
|
Just tickle the truth into submission |
|
And tickle the truth into submission |