Fireman said to the engineer, "How could you be so mean,
As to set all the politicians shoveling coal until they're green.
Didn't you know I still work for Pharma, like before
Now I'll have to ring myself on the telephone
Declare an act of war!"
But the engineer, he shot right back, a gleam deep in his eye
Said, "I'm calling up all the Musketeers,
We're making more french fries."
Cho: Get back on that train, get back on that train, Marie
King Midas had a special touch he'd polished through the years
He found it lots more lucrative than shining pinking shears
Gilding this, gilding that, filling up the chests
Minting modern art from all the rodent castle pests
It was the best of times but finally left him in the cold
Cause, when he kissed a girl, he found he'd turned her into gold
Now, who would think with all this noise in pursuit tending bees
Luther would get bigger hives from climbing poplar trees
As I recall, they weren't all running from the Church
Must o' been somethin' in his bonnet left the Pope in such a lurch
Then, when he told Miss Margaret to wash his new blue jeans
She thawed out bags of succotash and slapped him with string beans
Yes, and King Kong had a partner who really knew her stuff
She kept mergers and acquisitions there, dancing in the buff
And no one could have noticed if they made their silent pleas
'Cause accountants hid the bullion cubes and ate up all the cheese
She had them recite poetry and balance on their chairs
And promise not to break the backs of those who held no shares
I've just come down from Washingtown, I've stopped to scratch my head
I'm trying to imagine it without the living dead
Now, white is black, black is white, greens have turned to blues
I've tried so unsuccessfully to scrape it from my shoes
It must be that the government is hostage to a song
They sing, "We're just incapable of telling right from wrong"
I was wandering near the old High Road on a kind of rainy day
I'd just come down from Washingtown was lookin' for a place 't stay
When I noticed that the crowd had left,
The crows were flying from the fields
And following a small brass band, marching through the weeds
I tripped over Bob Dylan lying, eating pumpkin seeds
