Lyrics
He's tall
He's lean
He reeks of gasoline
And he has perfect credit, if you know what I mean
He is the air conditioning man
And he is keeping you cool with his giant fan
And I, on the other hand
I hope this bagel will never end
But he's your ruthless dictator!
He's your enlightened plutocrat!
He is dancing on the table in a shirt made of hats!
You didn't start the bonfire of the vanities
But you're tossing in our clothes and our humanities
And once a year, we act like we were glad you were born
You always want to bomb the Middle East on the weekend
When we could be cutting grass or eating cheese with your girlfriend
We could learn to read and write in Portuguese or Korean
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
You always want to bomb the Middle East on vacation
When we could just write a novel or recline in frustration
We could occupy the park across the street with a squirt gun
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
It's crude
It's rude
It's full of toxins dude
It's the underground hero to a special few
It ain't broke so don't fix it
And never change
No matter what
Meanwhile I?
I'm going to back to school!
I've been eating mush all week and it's time for round food!
But he's your ruthless dictator!
He's your straw man strongman!
He's taking you to the Cinderella's Castle of Shame at Disneyland!
We didn't start the bonfire of the vanities
But we're tossing in our clothes and our humanities
And once a year, we act like we were glad you were born
You always want to bomb the Middle East on the weekend
When we could be cutting grass or eating cheese with your girlfriend
We could learn to read and write in Portuguese or Korean
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
You always want to bomb the Middle East on vacation
When we could just write a paean or recline in frustration
You could occupy the park across the street with a Nerf gun
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
I didn't start the bonfire of the vanities
But I'm tossing in my clothes and my humanity
And once a year, I act like I was glad I was born
You always want to bomb the Middle East on the weekend
When we could be cutting grass or planting trees with your girlfriend
We could learn to read and write in Cantonese or Italian
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
You always want to bomb the Middle East on vacation
When we could just write a poem or recline in frustration
You could occupy the park across the street with a squirt gun
But you always want to bomb the Middle East
You always want to bomb the Middle East
