Every village has to have an idiot
Some harmless monster to soak up all our fears
Ours hangs at the Hartsdale Cheesery
Writing down the license of every car he sees
Lots of stories how he got that way
No one knows where he goes at the end of the day
We threw rocks at him when we were nine
Stared us down with the pride of Frankenstein
He's got the pride of Frankenstein
Sometimes I feel like that village idiot
A babbling fool that children should avoid
My smile's too wide, my shoes don't stay tied
I can't get a decent haircut to save my life
Baby it's sad, baby it's a fact
There are people with torches for people like that
This is a song for those who can't sing
I want to buy you all a diamond ring
And if those diamond rings don't shine
We can all share a jug of cheap red wine
And the pride of Frankenstein