Ballad of a Thin Man
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 don't understand what you'll say
When you get home
You know something is happening
You don't 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
"It's his" and you say, "What's 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 don't 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 don't 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
You've been with the professors
And they all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read it's well known
And you know something is happening
But you don't 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 don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You see this one-eyed midget
And he's shouting the word "NOW"
You say, "What's the matter?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk or else go home"
And you know something is happening
But you don't 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 don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?