Spasm waiter dropping to his knees, sees
Slander on wrap paper ties
Lifting up his head he feels the sunlight in his eyesGrasp a kettle top and shoot the breeze, please
Ramble while slop scraper sighs
Tossing in his bed at night he'll dream until he diesOperations at the sink
The dribble liquid visible beneath his troubled eyes
Feels it tilt and start to slideMask a pretty hopper's foot with squeeze cheese
Dangle some grape apple pies
Tranquil and serene until he runs out of suppliesYour hands and feet are mangos
You're gonna be a genius anywayYour hands and feet are mangos
You're gonna be a genius anyway
[All three verses superimposed upon one another]
