Grey Tickles, Black Pressure

[Verse 1] I did not think I was The one being addressed In hemorrhoid commercials On the TV set I often stand and stare At nothing in the grocery store Because I do not know What to buy to eat any more [Verse 2] And parapraxis is The order of the day I never heard that word Until tonight I have to say And I'm supposed to believe that there's some guy Who will take the pain away [Pre-Chorus] And there are children who have cancer And so all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that So all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that [Chorus] I've got grey tickles and black pressure And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher Just like Uncle Paul Just like Uncle Paul I, I, I [Verse 3] They won't be happy til They tear down everything Which looks remotely cool Or is older than two weeks You must be kidding me Except I do know better than to ask [Verse 4] I can't believe I missed New York during the 70's I could have gotten a head start In the world of disease I'm sure I would have contracted Every single solitary thing [Pre-Chorus] And there are children who have cancer And so all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that So all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that [Chorus] I've got grey tickles and black pressure And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher Just like Uncle Paul Just like Uncle Paul I, I, I [Verse 5] They say let go let go let go You must learn to let go If I hear that fucking phrase again This baby's gonna blow Into a million itsy bitsy tiny pieces Don't you know Just like my favorite scene in Scanners [Verse 6] Apparently there was an outcry of some sort today Which no-one heard incidentally and by the way I have not had the strength To leave my place in days or weeks And I'll never understand Whats happening in the Middle East [Pre-Chorus] And there are children who have cancer And so all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that So all bets are off Cause I can't compete with that [Chorus] I've got grey tickles and black pressure And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher Just like Uncle Paul Just like Uncle Paul I, I, I [Chorus] I've got grey tickles and black pressure And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher Just like Uncle Paul Just like Uncle Paul I, I, I