Oh, you did it all by yourself
You must be a genius
Therefore, I needn't bother
To learn this new convenience
Sing, sing a song
not too weird, not too long
don't be afraid to use machines
For the only purpose of their making
A million sounds, a billion sounds
Are out there waiting for the taking
Conceived or retrieved
I hope, I hope, I hope
They don't smoke all the dope
I'll pay the piper
When times are riper
But that smarta** cop with the bad haircut
Should have been just a little bit nicer
Sing, sing a song
Pa** a disk, pa** the bong
Residing in the cutout bin
With all my little rivet-head friends now
If riding charts is what you intend
Try not to laugh when you get the f**ing bends
Don't believe all the virtual reality hype
What america wants is a digital wipe
They can't put a man on the moon anymore
Took a year to design a f**ing shuttle door
That's right. 'Space 1999' reruns, anyone?
That's right. You s**!