i had a little monkey i sent him to the country and i fed him on gingerbread along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo and now my monkey’s dead at least he looks that way, but then again don’t we all? (what i make is what i am, i can’t be forever) i had a little monkey i sent him to the country and i fed him on gingerbread along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo and now my monkey’s dead poor little monkey «make you…break you…make you…break you…lookout» (what i make is what i am, i can’t be forever) we are out own wicked gods with little «g’s» and big dicks sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise i had a little monkey and i sent him to the country and i fed him on gingerbread along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo and (k)now my monkey’s dead the primate’s scream of consonance is a reflection of his own mind’s dissonance