Monkey see, monkey die
Laminate your face and paste it up into the sky
'Cause it's squalid and it's solid
And it's completely rancid and beautiful
Like a forcefield of multiplying meat
Cut a hole in the floor to see
Just how close to hell we're standing
Time shoots forward in your skull
Scattered to the four winds, chucked in the bucket
Riding lampost, moldy toast, excitement level: zero
Rock the casbah, bring the noise
Amplified dishwashers exploring the boring to the core
People with cordless personalities
Running around in new wave bionic jogging suits
California white boy sound
Rocket-powered and nailed to the ground
New age, old age, totally lame
Straight to the middle of the road
Rewind the tape, play the whole thing backwards
With the sound completely turned off