| Outside my window there’s a Whole lot of trouble comin'
|
| The cartoon killers and the
|
| Rag cover clones
|
| Stack heals kickin' rhythm
|
| Of social circumcision
|
| Can’t close the closet on a Shoe box full of bones
|
| Kangaroo lady with her bourbon in a pouch
|
| Can’t afford the rental on a bamboo couch
|
| Collecting back her favors 'cause her well is running dry
|
| I know her act is terminal,
|
| But she ain’t gonna die
|
| Slim Intoxicado drinkin' dime store hooch
|
| Is always in a circle with his parttime pooch
|
| Little creepy’s playing dollies on the New York rain
|
| Thinkin' Bowie’s just a knife
|
| Ooh the pain
|
| I ain’t seen the sun since I don’t know when
|
| The freaks come out at nine
|
| And it’s twenty to ten
|
| What’s this funk
|
| That you ucall junk
|
| To me it’s just monkey business
|
| Blind man in the box that will probably die
|
| The village kids laugh as they waalk 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 tongue
|
| For a cool place to stand
|
| Where’s this shaade
|
| That you’ve got it made
|
| To me it’s just monkey business
|
| CHORUS
|
| Monkey business
|
| Slippin' on the track
|
| Monkey business
|
| Jungle in black
|
| Ain’t your business if I got
|
| No monkey on my back
|
| CHORUS
|
| The Vaseline gypsies and the silicone souls
|
| Dressed to the society
|
| Hypocrite heartbeat and cheap alibis
|
| Can’t get you by that monkey
|
| CHORUS |