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They Might Be Giants They Might Be Giants Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes All the people are so happy now, their heads are caving in I'm glad they are a snowman with protective rubber skin But every little thing's a domino that falls on different dots And crashes into everything that tries to make it stop And the mirror, it reflects a tiny dancing skeleton Surrounded by a fleshy overcoat and swaddled in A furry hat, elastic mask, a pair of shiny marble dice Some people call them snake-eyes, but to me they look like mice And nothing's smelling like a rose But I don't care if no one's coming up for air I know nothing's gonna change my clothes ever anymore |
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