Music & Lyrics written: Oct 1996
Music & Lyrics by Paul
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Commander, this is Blotz at Research Project 23 I'm on Earth collecting data on everything I see And though I realize the normal program runs ten years I'm calling now to ask you: Please, get me out of here My replicator needs some work, my food all comes out green My cloaking system flutters, I'm afraid I might be seen The autodoc keeps telling me there's no pain in my gut And worst of all the people here are nuts. They're nuts I say, Commander, their heads aren't screwed on right It isn't just a case of people who are not too bright If the early scout missed this then he must be a putz I've studied them and I should know: they're nuts. Consider the professions they think to be of worth Some women make a living by their upper torso girth A hero is a man who carries a ball a hundred yards Broadcasting comments on that run brings even more rewards Evangelists on TV say if you don't send them funds Their god is going to kill them (I still don't get that one) They haven't got the common sense that God gave to a goose They even let their lawyers reproduce They're nuts I say, Commander, their heads aren't screwed on right There's no one home and there aren't even rumors of a light I really cannot figure out how they got past mud huts I've studied them, and I should know: they're nuts. And those are just the mainstream, wait till you see the fringe There's folks who stay up all night, on one long singing binge With songs of trolls and mucous, and animals squished flat And a guy who beats up criminals, and dresses like a bat Another cult here worships paper, rather than guitars They'll spend the price of two weeks' food on so-called "trading cards" They'll talk of flying mammoths, ridiculous, I know (Oh, by the way, the dolphins say hello) They're nuts I say, Commander, their heads aren't screwed on right The Bird of Wisdom took one look at them and then took flight As near as I can tell, they just get by on luck and guts I've studied them, and I should know: they're nuts. There's folks who live on fault lines, there's folks who charge for sex Some folks get paid amazing sums, their muscles for to flex I'm not the easily-panicked sort, I've done this work before But this place doesn't make sense, and I can't take any more His answer came quite quickly, to his immense relief "Your duty there is ended," the word came from his chief "But we're sending you to Outpost 9, for quarantine," she said "We've got to make sure this thing doesn't spread!" They're nuts I say, Commander, their heads aren't screwed on right Their grasp upon reality is very, very light I went out in my human suit, and someone grabbed my butt! I've studied them, and I should know: they're nuts. |