Kitchenette

I keep hanging around your kitchenette

And I'm gonna get a pot to cook you in

I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar

And crush all your Gingerbread MenCause I want you

I want you to be my friend

I want you

I wanna be your solitary manTry not to wake the executioner

He's sleeping with a fireman's axe

He leaves his glass eye on the pillow

And his dentures floating there in a glassWhat's this husband of yours ever given to you

Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen

And a brood of jug-eared buck-toothed imbeciles

The ugliest kids I've ever seenNow I know that you don't really dig him

And I can see that you want it to quit

But if you want to get your hand out of the cookie jar

You have to let go of the biscuit!