Outside my window thereґs a Whole lot of trouble cominґ The cartoon killers and the Rag cover clones Stack heels kickinґ rhythm Of social circumcision Canґt close the closet on Shoe box full of bones
Kangaroo lady with her bourbon in a pouch Canґt afford the rental on a bamboo couch Collecting back her favors ґcause her well is running dry I know her act is terminal, But she ainґt gonna die
Slim intoxicado drinkinґ dime store hooch Is always in a circle with his part-time pooch Little creepyґs playing dollies in the New York rain Thinkinґ Bowieґs just a knife Ooh the pain
I ainґt seen the sun since I donґt know when The freaks come out at nine And itґs twenty to ten Whatґs this funk That you call junk To me itґs just monkey business
Blind man in the vox that will probably die The village kids laugh as they walk by A psycho is on the edge of this human garbage dump And the vultures in the sewers are telling Him to jump
Into the fire from the frying pan Tripping on his tounge For a cool place to stand Whereґs this shade That youґve got it made To me itґs just monkey business
Monkey business Slippinґ on the track Monkey business Jungle in black Ainґt your business if I got No monkey on my back
Monkey business Slippinґ on the track Monkey business Jungle in black Ainґt your business If I got Monkeyґs on my back
The vaseline gypsies and silicone souls Dressed to the society Hypocrite heartbeat and cheap alibis Canґt get you by that monkey