[Verse 1]
No, your mom don't get it and your dad don't get it
Uncle John don't get it
And you can't tell grandma 'cause her heart can't take it
And she might not make it, no
They say, "Don't dare, don't you even go there
Cutting off your long hair, you do as you're told"
Tell you, "Wake up, go put on your makeup
This is just a phase you're gonna outgrow"

[Chorus]
Something wrong in the village, in the village, whoa
They stare in the village, the village, whoa
There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true
There's something wrong with the village, with the village
There's something wrong with the village

[Verse 2]
Feel the rumors follow you
From Monday all the way to Friday dinner
You got one day's shelter
And it's Sunday hell to pay, you young, lost sinner
Well I've been there, sitting in that same chair
Whispering that same prayer half a million times
It's a lie though, buried in disciples
One page of the Bible isn't worth a life

[Chorus]
Something wrong in the village, in the village, yeah, whoa
They stare in the village, the village, whoa
There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true
There's something wrong with the village, with the village
There's something wrong with the village, oh
Whoa, whoa, yeah

[Chorus]
There's something wrong in the village, in the village, yeah, whoa
They stare in the village, the village, whoa
There's nothing wrong with you, it's true, it's true
There's something wrong with the village, with the village
There's something wrong with the village
Whoa, whoa, yeah

[Outro]
Thank you, thank you
Jennifer Aniston drinks this shit
I would go so straight for her
(Ew)
Did somebody say, "Ew"? Oh my god
I've always had this...
(Vodka?)
No, it's a non-alcohol singer's soothing throat spray, professional strength, number one seller
That's not English
I have this image of her, it's a real thing
I have this dream, you know, uh, and um, we're in Lake Tahoe
I wake up, it's like a wooden bed, a lot of, like, neutral tones
Big white pillows, California king
I wake up, it's snowing, I'm like, "Oh"
I walk down the wooden stairs
You know, like wood, like, where it's like, "Fuck, that's fucking wood," it's not like it looks like wood, it's like that's a stick
And I walk down and she's there sitting Indian style on a bar stool, humongous white marble counter top, with a huge mug in her hands, wearing fuzzy socks and a big polo button-up shirt
And I'm like, "There's my lady"
One thing I have found is that other people that have that same vision are also gay 'cause that's a very gay vision
Blot? (Me) You blot (I'm blotting)
What are you blotting? (She's sweaty) She's sweaty
I don't know, I'm gonna play some more songs
I had a lot of trouble getting over that boy
I wrote a lot of these songs about it
I've made it to the other side, God bless
Um, but I wrote this song, uh, about it a few years after we'd broken up
That sounds kind of pathetic, but that's okay
He, um, moved 11 blocks away from me
And felt like an attack on me, on my well-being
So I wrote a song about it
I tattooed a map to his apartment on my arm
I made hats with a map to his apartment on it
And, uh, as any sane person does
And this is that song, it's called "11 Blocks"