Bored holes through our tongues
So sing a song about it
Held our breath for too long
Til were half sick about it
Tell us what we did wrong
And you can blame us for it
Turn a clamp on our thumbs
Well sew a doll about it
And tell us all about it
How bout some credit now
Where credit is due
For the damage that weve done?
Wrought upon ourselves and others
With a slow and vicious gun
And although pratfalls can be fun
Encores can be fatal
And then I hear you say
Thank God its fatal
Not shy
Not shy of fatal
Thank God.
Wait just a second now
Its not all that bad
Dont you count out the sun.
Youre making mountains of handkerchiefs
Where the mascara always runs
So be careful when youre done
Youre bound to get post-nasal
What, did I just hear you say?
Thank God its fatal.
We dont want to hear the sound of a door
And we dont want to read the signs that you bore
You know, the kind of sign you hang on the door
Saying, well be back- what a crack
Now dont you think we might have heard that before?
Bored holes through our tongues
So sing a song about it
Held our breath for too long
Til were half sick about it
Tell us what we did wrong
And you can blame us for it
Turn a clamp on our thumbs
Well sew a doll about it