[Verse 1]

I'm not a fan of Sinatra

I busted out the waiting room

With a glance at the doctor

They caught me at the ocean

Holding hands with a lobster

Other hand full of vodka

Rubber bands in my pants

So I can dance in the aqua

('Gotta dance' is the mantra)

Aqua Man is a monster

Both the cops and the robbers

Are dropping tabs on the pasta

So don't eat the tortellini

It's pork and bean-y

It needs a little pepper

And seventy-four zucchinis

I'm more than peachy

So you can grab a fork and eat me

And my organs weekly

Since I'm becoming bored and sleepy

(I'd rather be in orbit spinning)

Uncork the Henny

Its almost four o' clock

And I'm ready for Mork and Mindy

The show is very orphan friendly

I need the comfort

To feed the hunger

Because there's strength and speed and numbers

(So heed the thunder)

And watch the lightning cause it's frightening

And so exciting when you see the light before the striking

[Hook]

This is for the bums

Tuberculosis victims with the water on their lungs

This is for the punks

This is for the meek

This is for the geniuses that don't know how to speak

This is for the lame

This is for the herbs

Social lubrication in the handiness of words

This is for the small

This is for the weird

People who know better than to follow what they hear

This is for your fears

[Verse 2]

My poetry is kept where I'm socially inept

And so the fingernail of small talk is pokin' me to death

I'm supposed to be an extrovert, but I've observed

That I prefer to hide behind having a lack of nerve

He's sort of an attractive turd, a taller midget

But walked with his head tall so he got all the digits

He never had the gall to talk of his appalling visions

He saw the laws of physics twisted when he closed his eyes

And so he tried to teach himself to vocalize

What his open mind told him to write in them broken lines

Unorganized quantum physics, language banging leaps

Awkward angles reached danger, sprinkled in his tangled speech

Son of a preacher man dancing like Peter Pan

Sucking on a thermometer to see where my fever lands

Should I call the doctor or just dial the reefer man

Either plan's decent, I just wish to breathe again

[Hook]

This is for the bums

Tuberculosis victims with the water on their lungs

This is for the punks

This is for the meek

This is for the geniuses that don't know how to speak

This is for the lame

This is for the herbs

Social lubrication in the handiness of words

This is for the small

This is for the weird

People who know better than to follow what they hear

This is for your fears