1, 2, 3, 4
His merchandise is sublime
But don’t laugh at the Ha Ha man
While you were gawking I was talking
And squawking with the Ha Ha man
So now I think breakfast is the plan
Are you coming with the Ha Ha man?
Ha Ha man Ha Ha man ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
(It’s a ridiculous concept, and everyone’s laughing but me)

I’ve waited too long to have you
Hide in the back of me
I’ve cheated so long I wonder
How you keep track of me

You could never be strong
You can only be free
And I never asked for the truth
But you owe that to me

I’ve entered the game of pricks
With knives in the back of me
Can’t call you or on you no more
When they’re attacking me

I’ll climb up on the house
Weep to water the trees
And when you come calling me down
I’ll put on my disease

You could never be strong
You can only be free
And I never asked for the truth
But you owe that to me
And I never asked for the truth
But you owe that to me
And I never asked for the truth
But you owe that to me

Under the iron shop
The farewell ladies wink
Always promising no one to crush them
Always pockerfaced before bingo
Does it snap or just happen?
But a queen’s prize awaits
She might rub her legs
But a queen’s prize awaits
Currently fabulous
And perhaps at last the song that you sing
will have meaning

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Circular beast exhibit
Factory of raw essentials
Wrong examples
Palefoot front runners
For disease control
And with ease you can roll
Away the stone
And find no remnants
Of goodness
Roll away the stone
And find no remnant
Of goodness

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A witness of innocent doctors
Of your wound
I stitched up your broken ego
Like an ego round
Is e navy blue
A bluster of faith
A carnivore of taste and witness
A doctor said “your wounds!”
And stitched up your broken ego
E’s navy blue

A witness of innocent doctors
Was your wound
too much for your broken ego?
Like an ego round
Is e navy blue
A bluster of faith
A carnivore of taste and witness
A doctor set your wounds
And stitched up your broken ego
E’s navy blueCheck out more Lyrics from Guided By Voices. 
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Perfect birds sit on plastic bush

In my cubicle

I’ve been knowing this for some reason now

And anyday I expect the delivery truck

To bring me mine, the order is late

But still I wait for the starfire demon

…or leave it to fateCheck out more Lyrics from Guided By Voices. 
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Pike fly mighty, every thing tries to
In the uphill crick
Kings and queens the same-fan that flame, and
Hot soup boils in the wretched spoils of the clock collector’s clique
Why should I listen to you
Why should I listen to you now
Cause you’re okay
You make me high
and it’s a day away oh yeah
Give me strength
Blow some life into me Jesus yeah
You’re alright
Blow some life into a free man now

Miracles bleed through steel and needle
In the uphill crick
Silhouettes and screams
that’s what we mean
Come on big seven
Gimmie green heaven at the final gun
Why should I listen to you
Why should I listen to you now
Cause you’re okay
You make me high
and it’s a day away oh yeah
Give me strength
Blow some life into me Jesus yeah
You’re alright
Blow some life into a free man now
You’re alright
Blow some life into me Jesus yeah
Gimmie strength
Blow some life into a free man now
You’re okay
Blow some life into me Jesus now
You’re alright
Blow some life into a free man yeah
You’re alright
Blow some life into me Jesus now
Gimmie strength
Blow some life into a free man now
you’re okay
Blow some life into me Jesus now
you’re okay…..

I drew up back when Mr. Skate came back from the attack
The official fag saw the cake tossed into the lake
And he crossed that lake with his overpaid army
Of rats and snakes on whiskey ships
And they are right, they were alive
They were fools, making rules
For their entrance into the butchery pools
Let them be and that’s the lesson
An overworked dreamer and his cronies
On minitracks and motorbikes
And a contest featuring human beings
And other less sprouts
And other less sprouts

oh, to speak on one’s feet
to beat on one’s brain
the popular mechanics are at it again
a tenement filled with side-show freaks
assembled to downgrade
an immpeccable arrangement
by the soft-rock renegades
and give me time to light
a sentimental torch tonight
i’m a big fan of the pigpen

sharper than most
cut with exacto
gone is all good
ex post facto
ba-da-ba-da…
oh, oh…