You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, Who is that man?
You try so dang hard
But you dont understand
What youll say
When you get home
When you something is happening
You dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You raise up your head
And you ask, Is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, Whats mine?
And somebody else says, Where what is?
And you say, Oh my God
Am I here all alone?
You know something is happening
But you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You pay for your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And he asks you how it feels
To be such a freak
And you say, Impossible
As he hands you a bone
And you know something is happening
And you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
Who keep you supplied with facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations
Youve been with the professors
And they all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known
And you know something is happening
But you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
The sword swallower comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
Without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan
And you know something is happening
And you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You see this one-eyed midget
And hes shouting the word NOW
You say, Whats the matter?
And he says, How?
And you say, What does this mean?
And he screams back, Youre a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home
And you know something is happening
But you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
Your eyes in your pockets
And your head on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin around
You should be made
To wear earphones
And you know something is happening
And you dont know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?