Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues The sweet pretty things are in bed now, of course The city fathers, they're trying to endorse The reincarnation of Paul

Crying lightning And twisted and deranged Your past-times, consisted of the strange And I hate that little game you had called Outside the cafe by the cracker factory You were practicing a magic trick And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed On

Tell your friends, I got a factory of faith Factually I, I'm just a piece of it Factually I, the very least of it Be my wife, I think you're right that we should mate Late last night, I had a dream that it was great I got a factory of Factually I, is