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Patrick, you see, I'm growing a mustache And though I know I must ask you Does it really make me look like a man? SpongeBob, being a man is just a tough job I hope you're picked to be the best SpongeBobs ever had Working like a dog at the Krusty Krab Now wait a minute I think we hit a wall I think we hit a psychic wall Maybe we're just young and we won't know 'til we're old Too young to free ourselves from this lonely fish bowl Some kind of wall Some kind of psychic wall Some kind of wall Some kind of psychic wall We can get a burn Come on, let's find a way to be happy Not like Plankton, he will never be satisfied Always complaining about his life To his computer wife You think he would've found by now To be sought as a king We don't need a burn