I keep hanging around your kitchenette
And I´m gonna get a pot to cook you in
I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar
And crush all your Gingerbread Men

Cause I want you
I want you to be my friend
I want you
I wanna be your solitary man

Try not to wake the executioner
He sleeping with a fireman´s axe
He leaves his glass eye on the pillow
And his dentures there in a glass

What´s this husband of yours ever given to you
Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen
And a brood of jug-eared buck-toothed imbeciles
The ugliest kids I´ve ever seen

Now I know that you don´t really dig him
And I can see that you want it to quit
But if you want to get your hand out of the cookie jar
You have to let go of the buiscuit!