My Monkey (live)

I had a little monkey

I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread

Along came a choo-choo, knocked my monkey coo-coo

And now my monkey's dead

At least he looks that way

But then again don't we all

What I make is what I am, I can't be forever

I had a little monkey

I sent him to the country and I fed him on gingerbread

Along came a choo-choo and knocked my monkey coo-coo

And now my monkey's dead

Poor little monkey

Make you... break you... make you... break you... look out

What I make is what I am, I can't live forever

We are our own wicked gods

With little g's and big dicks

Sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise

I had a little monkey and I sent him to the country

And I fed him on gingerbread

Along came a choo-choo and knocked my monkey coo-coo

And now my monkey's dead

The primate's scream of consonance is a reflection

Of his own mind's dissonance