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 a 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
Poor little monkey
′Make you...break you...make you...break you...lookout′
(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 a 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
The primate′s scream of consonance is a reflection
Of his own mind′s dissonance