Lyrics They Might Be Giants

They Might Be Giants

Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head

As your body floats down Third Street

With the burn-smell factory closing up

Yes it's sad to say you will romanticize

All the things you've known before

It was not not not so great

It was not not not so great

And as you take a bath in that beaten path

There's a pounding at the door

Well It's a mighty zombie talking of some love and posterity

He says "The good old days never say good-bye

If you keep this in your mind:

You need some lo-lo-loving arms

You need some lo-lo-loving arms"

And as you fall from grace the only words you say are

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Ads up in the subway are the work of someone

Trying to please their boss

And though the guy's a pig we all know what he wants

Is just to please somebody else

If the pu-pu-puppet head

Was only bu-bu-busted in

It would be a better thing for everyone involved

And we wouldn't have to cry

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Memo to myself, do the dumb things I gotta do

Touch the puppet head

Quit my job down at the car wash

Didn't have to write no-one a good-bye note

That said, "The check's in the mail, and

I'll see you in church, and don't you ever change"

If the pu-pu-puppet head

Was only bu-bu-busted in

I'll see you after school

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside the puppet head

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside

Put your hand inside the puppet head