|
You walk into the room |
|
With your pencil in your hand |
|
You see somebody naked |
|
And you say, "Who is that man?" |
|
You try so hard |
|
But you don't understand |
|
Just what you'll say |
|
When you get home |
|
Cause you know something is happening |
|
But you don't know what it is |
|
Do you, Mister Jones? |
|
You raise up your head |
|
You ask, "Is this where it is?" |
|
Somebody points to you and says |
|
"It's his" |
|
You say, "What's mine?" |
|
Somebody else says, "Where what is?" |
|
And you say, "Oh my God |
|
Am I here all alone?" |
|
Cause you know something is happening |
|
But you don't know what it is |
|
Do you, Mister Jones? |
|
You have many contacts |
|
Among the lumberjacks |
|
To get you facts |
|
When someone attacks your imagination |
|
Nobody has any respect |
|
Anyhow they already expect you |
|
To just give a check to you |
|
To tax-deductible charity organizations |
|
Cause you know something is happening |
|
But you don't know what it is |
|
Do you, Mister Jones? |
|
Now you see this one-eyed midget |
|
Shouting the word "NOW" |
|
And you say, "For what reason?" |
|
And he says, "How?" |
|
And you say, "What does this mean?" |
|
And he screams back, "You're a cow |
|
Give me some milk |
|
Or else go home" |
|
Cause you know something is happening |
|
But you don't know what it is |
|
Do you, Mister Jones? |
|
When you walk into the room |
|
Like a camel and then you frown |
|
You put your eyes in your pocket |
|
And your nose on the ground |
|
There should be a law |
|
Against you comin' around |
|
You should be made |
|
To wear earphones |
|
Cause you know something is happening |
|
But you don't know what it is |
|
Do you, Mister Jones? |
