Your crawfish fingers and your dirty dregs
Your sideways stingers and your wooden legs
They're throwing out j**els like rotten eggs
'Cause it's Christmas in Siam
And we're rough on rats
Your scarecrow spiders and your shipwreck bones
The fossilized bibles of Geronimo Jones
His star spangled army in their roadhouse clothes
'Cause a hero can't bronze his soul
And we're rough on rats
There's shattered gla** on the dance floor
A cop chaperoning a dog
The testament of a landlord
Who's living in a hollow log
Show 'em how rough we can be, boys
Oh yeah, we're rough on 'em
The burlap flowers and the c**aine dirt
The horn of plenty in a desert of hurt
The corduroy boy in the k**joy shirt
He's a stereotype on ice
And we're rough on rats
So what do you think you could take from the heap
Where the haystack needles are piled up cheap?
You can buy what's useless and steal what you need
In the pink penitentiary
And we're rough on rats
Yeah, some would say we're a little too rough on 'em
Rough on that rat
We rough on rats, baby
That's what we do, yeah