| Lyrics: | Why don't you give some shit about the kids, man?
Tinky-Winky
The kids,
man!
Little boys and girls, they all love me.
Laa-laa
Come sit on the lap of
I-C-E,
and let me tell you a story or two,
about a punk-ass nigger I knew
named:
Tinky-Winky, Tinky-Winky
squeeze me, laa-laa, hug, ahh
C
is..
OK, you'd better listen to me good,
because this is the A-B-C's of anarchism
C
is..
C is for cookie...
Conclusion?
... that's good enough for me.
Guess
what?
What?
Guess what?
What?
An-ar-chism
C is for
cookie.
Conclusion?
An-
What?
-ar-chism
An-
What?
-ar-chism
C is for cookie.
Conclusion?Nah.
That's good enough for me.
Guess
what?
What?
Copyright infringement in the kitchen.
Copyright infringement by
the new refridgerator.
Copyright infringement, right over by my club soda
bottle.
An-ar-chism.
So tell me what you want, what you really, really
want.
I'll tell you what I want.
Copyright infringement *inside* the club soda
bottle.
Back out again.
I'm back, what else?
Guess
what?
What?
I'm going to set the phone down and just start doing it.
Doing it,
doing it, doing it.
Can you hear me now?
Yes, sir.
OK, now, when you, in
order that I can play this back I have to pick
up the phone because the casette deck is the
amplifier that I'm sending
the phone on, so, bear with me.
Hey-ho!
So,
when you're recording, you can't hear me?
Conclusion?
I'm recording now,
it's when I transition from recording to play that I
have to pick up the
mike.
Wrong! Wrong! Dog gone it!
Allright, I'm just going to be recording
now.
Conclusion?
I don't think so, very much. WRONG!
Damn, I hear
the roto-tiller.
Right, I'm hearing the roto-tiller live. WRONG!
That's my
roto-tiller!
Do you hear it on the phone?
No.
It's kind of a humming
sound.
Don't get up, don't open the window.
Don't get up, don't open the
window.
Don't GET UP-ah, don't open the window. WRONG!
GET UP-ah, don't open the
window.
Don't open the window.
Don't GET UP!
Don't GET UP!
Don't GET
UP!
Don't GET UP! WRONG!
Don't get up, don't open the window, don't do anything.
I
don't want...
Would they prefer anarchy?
I don't want you to open the
window.
Oh my god...
It's not, it's not the roto-tiller, it's....
... they're
glaring at me.
It's not the roto-tiller...
... They want me dead.
Got
it?
It's a blower.
It's, it's an electric blower.
Allright, now it comes
out. WRONG!
Can I do it now?
Can I do it now?
Allright.
Would the prefer
anarchy?
Conclusion?
Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C.
I'm over
by the microwave oven now |
