Kitchenette
Grinderman
I keep hanging around your kitchenette
And I’m gonna get a pot to cook you in
I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar
And crush all your gingerbread men
Cause I want you
Yeah, I want you to be my friend
Yeah, I want you
Yeah, I want to be your solitary man
Try not to wake the executioner
He’s sleeping with a fireman’s axe
He leaves his glass eye on the pillow, babe
And his dentures floating there in a glass
Makes it hard to relax!
Makes it hard to relax!
When I want you
I want you to be my friend
Ah it’s getting hard to relax!
It’s getting hard to get my act together!
What’s this husband of yours ever given to you
Oprah Winfrey on a plasma screen
And a brood of jug-eared buck-toothed imbeciles
The ugliest kids I’ve ever seen
Oh baby I want you
I want you to be my girlfriend
Maybe we could send those kids to play down on the street
Hey, shouldn’t you put shoes on their feet?
It’s getting hard to relax
It’s getting hard to relax
Gonna open up the window
Whose that coming up the back stairs?
Tippy-toe tippy-toe tippy-toe tippy-toe
Coming up the back stairs
I can see that you don’t really dig him
And I can see that you want it to quit
But if you want to get your hand out of the cookie jar
You gonna have to let go of the biscuit
O babe I want you
I want you to be my girlfriend
Yeah, I want you
Yeah, I want to be your solitary man
I wanna be that man!
