| Pleasure is melting like chocolate |
| My blue ribbon gumption is gone |
| All my gravy must have soaked into something |
| And the world |
| The filthy steps, the cold concrete |
| The phony earth below my feet |
| The ancient odor of the street |
| Yes, the world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| Yes, the world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| And when the crisis passes |
| When the coast is clear |
| I’ll be buffed down to a liquid |
| And the world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| Yes, the world, world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| Yes, the world, world, world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| Throughout this entire ugly outing |
| I’ve been mumbling the convex of what I should be shouting |
| But I’ll soon be silent, you’ll soon hear nothing |
| 'Cause the world, world, it is a sponge |
| The world, world, world, world, it is a sponge |
| World, world, world, world, it is a sponge |