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You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand |
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You see somebody naked, you say, "Who is that man?" |
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You try so hard but you don't understand |
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Just what you'll say when you get home |
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But there something is happening here |
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And you don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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You raise up your head, you ask, "Is this where it is?" |
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And somebody points to you and says "It's his" |
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And you say, "What's mine?" |
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And somebody else says, "Where what is?" |
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And you say, "Oh my God am I here all alone?" |
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It just something is happened here |
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But you don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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So, you hand in your ticket, you go watch the geek |
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Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak |
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And says, "Well, how does it feel my friend to be such a freak?" |
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And you say, "Impossible" as he hands you a bone |
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You're positive that something is happening here |
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But you don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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You've so many contacts [Incomprehensible] among the lumberjacks |
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To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination |
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But nobody has any respect anyway they already expect |
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You to just give a check to tax-deductible charity organizations |
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You've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks |
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With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks |
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You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books |
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You're very well read, yeah, it's well known |
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'Cause something is still happening here |
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Don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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The sword swallower |
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He comes up to you and then he kneels, |
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Crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels |
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Without further notice he tells you how it feels |
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And he says, "Here is your mouth back thanks for the loan" |
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And you know something is happening here |
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But you don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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Now, you see this one-eyed midget, shouting the word "NOW" |
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And you say, "For what reason?" And he says, "How?" |
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And you say, "Good God what's happenin'?" |
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And he screams back, "You're a cow |
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And give me some milk or go home" |
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Yes and now, you're positive something's happening |
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And you wish you know what it was |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
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Well, you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown |
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You put your eyes in your pocket, nose in the ground |
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There ought to be a law against you comin' 'round |
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You should be made to wear some earphones |
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'Cause something is happened here |
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You don't know what it is |
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Do you, Mister Jones? |
