| Coming out of lead guitar and drums
|
| Rest of the band comes heavy
|
| Said come on, baby, oh god, oh shit
|
| Black and white, yeah, polish sausages
|
| In a bun, in the sun, it’s hit and run
|
| Hey man, like, like check this out
|
| Man, really, I mean listen
|
| I was counting the holes
|
| In the acoustic tile ceiling, you know
|
| Mumbling and fumbling
|
| With them little buttons on my mattress
|
| You know, that hold it together
|
| So anyways my mind strays
|
| And the tricks that my memory plays
|
| Like fascination and abomination
|
| On a biblical Broadway stage
|
| Like dancers and singers
|
| And a fully landscaped gospel group
|
| And the harmony and whatever
|
| And dinosaurs eating like veggie burgers
|
| At the snack bar out front in the lobby, you know
|
| So anyways on the same stage
|
| Is me naked like an empty page
|
| That’s when I heard him
|
| Like a director’s voice with too much echo
|
| I guess he was talking to yours truly
|
| I mean me
|
| Madam, that’s Adam
|
| Ain’t no other woman, that’s had I’m
|
| He’s stronger than a tree
|
| That apple tree over there
|
| Wealthy in his healthy way
|
| Never works, he never plays
|
| Sits around and cogitates
|
| Right now, he’s planting his garden
|
| Like I had to hear that chorus twice
|
| You know before I finally got the picture
|
| I screamed, «I ain’t Adam, I never seen the dude
|
| And I ain’t no virgin either»
|
| So anyways it’s really looking bad
|
| Man, like that director’s mean when he gets mad
|
| Like, might wreck your career
|
| With just one nod and like cripple
|
| You, you know, for life that’s a long time
|
| My legs are shaking, my stomach’s knotted
|
| My mind has gone neurotic, I’d run if I could
|
| But you can’t hid from him
|
| And besides that jerk took my shirt
|
| And my trousers
|
| So anyways in the depths of my despair
|
| My co-star arrives, oh God, more beautiful than Cher
|
| I screamed, «Make up, gimme the script
|
| Please sing that chorus once more»
|
| Madam, that’s Adam
|
| Ain’t no other woman, that’s Adam
|
| He’s stronger than a tree
|
| And he’s freshly molded from clay
|
| Wealthy in his healthy way
|
| Never works, he never plays
|
| Sits around and cogitates
|
| He’s inventing the original sin now
|
| Hey madam, that’s Adam
|
| Poland whole, all people what’s cold |