Outside my window there's a whole lot of trouble comin' The cartoon killers and the rag cover clones Stack heels kickin' rhythm of social circumcision Can't close the closet on a shoe box full of bones
Kangaroo lady with her bourbon in a pouch Can't afford the rental on a bamboo couch Collecting back her favors 'cause her well is running dry I know her act is terminal, But she ain't gonna die
Slim intoxicado drinkin' dime store hooch Is always in a circle with his part-time pooch Little creepy's playing dollies in the New York rain Thinkin' Bowie's just a knife Ooh the pain
I ain't seen the sun since I don't know when The freaks come out at nine and it's twenty to ten What's this funk That you call junk To me it's just monkey business
Blind man in the vox that will probably die The village kids laugh as they walk by A psycho is on the edge of this human garbage dump And the vultures in the sewers are telling him to jump
Into the fire from the frying pan Tripping on his tounge For a cool place to stand Where's this shade That you've got it made To me it's just monkey business
Monkey business Slippin' on the track Monkey business Jungle in black Ain't your business if I got No monkey on my back
Monkey business Slippin' on the track Monkey business Jungle in black Ain't your business if I got Monkey's on my back
The vaseline gypsies and silicone souls Dressed to the society Hypocrite heartbeat and cheap alibis Can't get you by that monkey
