We're the fish men and the sea apes Look at our tails and scales And our big tough leader, away he wails He thinks he is the king pin but he's outraced By those little weedy stranger with the grin on his face But that is the illusionist, the circus man And the whole man murdering sea is his caravan Eat air croquettes, my children dear If you want to save yourself time and tears History picnickers follow me Evolution up the slopes of the sea Up the slopes of the sea, up the slopes of the sea Out on the land, out on the land singing hurray While a million years pa** by and we get well on our way Grandma clears the trash left by previous picnic slaves And with just one swipe of her ragged fins uncovers the caves Singing Billy go store the map safely underground He does but what is this that he has found The map has gone how will we grow old Grandma's tears have made the barbecue cold I find myself saying here's where I came in The illusionist has vanished like a red hot gin Like a red hot gin, like a red hot gin Oh yeah