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**!