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

Yeah I want you to be my friend

Yeah I want you

Yeah I wanna be your solitary man

Try not to wake the executioner

He's sleeping with a fireman's axe

He leaves his glass eye on the pillow babe

And his dentures floating there in a glass

He makes it hard to relax

He makes it hard to relax

When i want you

When i want you to be my friend

What's this husband of yours ever given to you

Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen

And a brood of junky buck-toothed imbeciles

The ugliest fucking kids I've ever seen

Oh baby I want you

Yeah I want you to be my girlfriend

Now will you send those kids to play down the street

And shouldn't you, shouldn't you put shoes on their feet?

It's getting hard to relax

It's getting hard to relax

I can see 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're gonna have to let go of the biscuit