[Verse 1]
I did not think I was
The one being addressed
In hemorrhoid commercials
On the TV set
I often stand and stare
At nothing in the grocery store
Because I do not know
What to buy to eat any more

[Verse 2]
And parapraxis is
The order of the day
I never heard that word
Until tonight I have to say
And I'm supposed to believe that there's some guy
Who will take the pain away

[Pre-Chorus]
And there are children who have cancer
And so all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that
So all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that

[Chorus]
I've got grey tickles and black pressure
And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher
Just like Uncle Paul
Just like Uncle Paul
I, I, I
[Verse 3]
They won't be happy til
They tear down everything
Which looks remotely cool
Or is older than two weeks
You must be kidding me
Except I do know better than to ask

[Verse 4]
I can't believe I missed
New York during the 70's
I could have gotten a head start
In the world of disease
I'm sure I would have contracted
Every single solitary thing

[Pre-Chorus]
And there are children who have cancer
And so all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that
So all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that

[Chorus]
I've got grey tickles and black pressure
And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher
Just like Uncle Paul
Just like Uncle Paul
I, I, I
[Verse 5]
They say let go let go let go
You must learn to let go
If I hear that fucking phrase again
This baby's gonna blow
Into a million itsy bitsy tiny pieces
Don't you know
Just like my favorite scene in Scanners

[Verse 6]
Apparently there was an outcry of some sort today
Which no-one heard incidentally and by the way
I have not had the strength
To leave my place in days or weeks
And I'll never understand
Whats happening in the Middle East

[Pre-Chorus]
And there are children who have cancer
And so all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that
So all bets are off
Cause I can't compete with that

[Chorus]
I've got grey tickles and black pressure
And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher
Just like Uncle Paul
Just like Uncle Paul
I, I, I
[Chorus]
I've got grey tickles and black pressure
And I'd rather lose my arm inside of a corn thresher
Just like Uncle Paul
Just like Uncle Paul
I, I, I