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They Might Be Giants They Might Be Giants Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head As you body floats down Third Street With the burn-smell factory closing up Yes it's sad to say you will romanticize All the things you've known before It was not so great And as you take a bath in that beaten path there's a pounding at the door It's a mighty zombie talking of some love and posterity He says "The good old days never say good-bye if you keep this in your mind: You need some loving arms" And as you fall from grace the only words you say are Put your hand inside the puppet head Ads up in the subway are the work of someone Trying to please their boss And though the guy's a pig we all know what he wants Is just to please somebody else If the puppet head was only busted in It would be a better thing for everyone involved and we wouldn't have to cry Put your hand inside the puppet head Quit my job down at the carwash Didn't have to write no-one a good-bye note That reads: "That check's in the mail, and I'll see you in church, and don't you ever change" If the puppet head was only busted in I'll see you after school Put your hand inside the puppet head |
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