Lyrics:

I keep hanging around your kitchenette
And I'm gonna get a pot to cook you in
I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar
And crush all your Gingerbread Men

'Cause I want you
Yeah, I want you to be my friend
Yeah, I want you
Yeah, I wanna be your solitary man

You try not to wake the executioner
He's sleeping with a fireman's axe
He leaves his glass eye on the pillow babe
And his dentures floating there in a glass
Come, it makes it hard to relax
It makes it hard to relax

When I want you
Yeah, I want you to be my friend
Ah, come on
It's getting hard to relax
It's getting hard to get my act together
Yeah
I'm gonna go out and open up the window and check outside

Well, what's this husband of yours ever given to you?
Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen
And a brood of jug-cared buck-toothed imbeciles
The ugliest fucking kids I've ever seen

Ah baby, I want you
Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend
And maybe we could send those kids to play down on the street
And shouldn't you put shoes on their feet?
It's getting hard to relax, it's getting hard to relax
Open the window
Who's that coming out of backstage?
Tippy toe, tippy toe, tippy toe, tippy toe coming out of backstage

Now I know that you don't really dig him
And I can see that you want it to quit
But if you want to get your hand out of the cookie jar
You have to let go of the biscuit

Ah baby, I want you
Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend
Yeah, I want you
Yeah, I wanna be your solitary man
I wanna be that man

She going tippy toe
Ah man, is that really the time?
Go and open up the window and look outside
Tippy toe, tippy toe coming up the stair
Maybe you should take the kids out
It's hard to relax, it's hard to relax
It's hard to relax, it's hard to relax
Get my act together
Get my act together