Lyrics:
Spasm waiter dropping to his knees, seesSlander on wrap paper tiesLifting up his head he feels the sunlight in his eyesGrasp a kettle top and shoot the breeze, pleaseRamble while slop scraper sighsTossing in his bed at night he'll dream until he diesOperations at the sinkThe dribble liquid visible beneath his troubled eyesFeels it tilt and start to slideMask a pretty hopper's foot with squeeze cheeseDangle some grape apple piesTranquil and serene until he runs out of suppliesYour hands and feet are mangosYou're gonna be a genius anywayYour hands and feet are mangosYou're gonna be a genius anyway[All three verses superimposed upon one another