I know you've got your mixed feelings about this
But stick your finger in your mouth, baby, give it a lick
Then point it to the sky, I think you will find
That the wind is at your back...
You woke up in the morning in the Summer of Hate
You were feeling like a morsel on the Devil's plate
It's easy to get lost and it's fun to be fonud
You hide-and-go-seek, get dizzy and fall down
A cloud up above you looks like a middle finger
A bee has stung you and has lost its stinger
You opened up the paper to discover your fate
Encoded most discretely on the funny page
They ate an apple of Uranium-238 and threw the core into the desert in the Summer of Hate
You crawled up to the altar with your hat in your hand
The judge said "You got problems, man, and I understand"
He glanced over your shoulder and you followed his eye
The reflection in his glasses showed you Time flying by
They held you under water, asked you where you keep your magic
You said, "The story's long and the ending's tragic"