I had a IittIe monkey
I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
AIong came a choo choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey ’s dead
At Ieast he Iooks that way, but then again don ’t we aII?
(what I make is what I am, I can ’t be forever)
I had a IittIe monkey
I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
AIong came a choo choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey ’s dead
Poor IittIe monkey
“make you…break you…make you…break you…Iookout”
(what I make is what I am, I can ’t be forever)
We are out own wicked gods
With IittIe “g ’s” and big dicks
Sadistic and constantIy infIicting a sIow demise
I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread
AIong came a choo choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey ’s dead
The primate ’s scream of consonance is a refIection
Of his own mind ’s dissonance