Forty-five minutes
forty-five cents
sixty-five agents sitting on a fence
singing, heh brother
look what we got for you
we're gonna rope off an area
and put on a show
from the Canadian border
down to Mexico
it might be the most
potentially gross
thing that we could possibly do
yeah, little buddy gonna get your chance
make them pubescents all wet their pants
we'll record it live
and that's no jive.
Hold it! Stop it! No! No! No! No!
Bang! went the pistol.
Crash! went the window.
Ouch! went the son of a gun.
Onomatopoeia
I don't wanna see ya
Speaking in a foreign tongue.
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