[WILLIAM FINN]
All I'm asking for is a tune
Something itchy to tap my toes to
Something that, in late afternoon
Makes high-strung boys collapse
Mister, perhaps you need some refreshments
What about some oolong?

Ooh, make me a song
Make me a song, boy
Drag out the ukulele
This Israeli is gonna fill the air!
Write me a thing that’s here for all time
Like tennis or Mahjong
And Mister, make me a song

All I'm asking for is a mood
Something hot but not literary
Maybe something ruckus and crude
That activates my toes
Nobody knows the wounds I keep hidden
I've hid them for too long

So make me a song
Make me a song, boy
Drag out the deepest feeling
I’m revealing
Everything raw inside