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Praise the lord in Moscow, Budapest and Sausalito |
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Where lying in the sunshine might be the very best that we know |
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Gab of what's in mind - the trading post of your libido, |
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'Cause Mr. Don's been ridiculin' cyclops Apathito |
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It seems that every day, the kitchen has gone awry |
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Apathito's the first to point out that the place is such a sty. |
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No matter to faith on the locks of their mind, |
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And if you don't got no action well you might not even try. |
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Mr. Don's all worried 'bout that cyclops Abelito |
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Himalayas in their minds, Quaker Oats in their libidos |
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That genius, killing time yellin' at your alter ego |
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Excuses spinning lies; all, to live that sunshine we know |
