Here come a man from the star

We don't know why he goes so far

And he keep on marching along beating his drum

Clubs and sticks and bats and balls

For nuclear dicks with their dialect drawls

That come from a parking lot town

Where nothing'll live in the sun

Don't make me a target

Don't make me a target

When he reach back in his mind

Feels like he's breaking the law

There's something back there he got

That nobody knows

He never claimed to say what he says

He smells like the inside of closets upstairs

The kind where nobody goes