I keep hanging around your kitchenette And I'm gonna get a pot to cook you in I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar And crush all your Gingerbread Men
'Cause I want you Yeah I want you to be my friend Yeah I want you Yeah I wanna be your solitary man
Try not to wake the executioner He's sleeping with a fireman's axe He leaves his glass eye on the pillow babe And his dentures floating there in a glass
He makes it hard to relax He makes it hard to relax When i want you When i want you to be my friend
What's this husband of yours ever given to you Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen And a brood of junky buck-toothed imbeciles The ugliest fucking kids I've ever seen
Oh baby I want you Yeah I want you to be my girlfriend
Now will you send those kids to play down the street And shouldn't you, shouldn't you put shoes on their feet? It's getting hard to relax It's getting hard to relax
I can see that you don't really dig him And I can see that you want it to quit But if you want to get your hand out of the cookie jar You're gonna have to let go of the biscuit