Wizard Needs Food, Badly Songtext
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I know that you're probably mad at me.
I've come to expect that.
You know that you'll never have all of me,
you've come to resent that.
You say "tomato", I say "video games",
you're acting so solemn.
You'll take the precious remote control from me.
Do I sound like Gollum?
(It's) not that I'm escaping,
you charm me like the flame does moths,
I've come to expect that.
You know that you'll never have all of me,
you've come to resent that.
You say "tomato", I say "video games",
you're acting so solemn.
You'll take the precious remote control from me.
Do I sound like Gollum?
(It's) not that I'm escaping,
you charm me like the flame does moths,
it's just that you'd prefer me docile,
like a narcoleptic sloth.
The wizard needs food badly,
the Voltron can't be incomplete.
The things I love, you hate so madly,
I must not go down in defeat.
In the hunter-gatherer societies,
I'd bring home the bacon.
Public thought says men should try and be tame,
stirred but not shaken.
I say "baseball" then you start to cry,
I'm sorry I grieve you.
I think a motorcycle's a good way to die,
this must bereave you.
I know that you try so hard,
and I'm not saying it's a sin,
it's just that they don't feel my pain,
in Vogue or Cosmopolitan.
And I'm sure you have your reasons,
but listen to me please...
I want the G.I. Joe with the Kung-Fu action grip.
I want Nintendo with the extra-graphics-microchip.
Tackle football with rocks, and sticks, and knives, and pain...
I want a truck with the four wheel drive train.
You'd rather see me get good at bookkeepping,
I could clean house in the time that I'm not sleeping.
I live to serve you, and I don't want to be rude,
but you should see that the wizard needs food.
like a narcoleptic sloth.
The wizard needs food badly,
the Voltron can't be incomplete.
The things I love, you hate so madly,
I must not go down in defeat.
In the hunter-gatherer societies,
I'd bring home the bacon.
Public thought says men should try and be tame,
stirred but not shaken.
I say "baseball" then you start to cry,
I'm sorry I grieve you.
I think a motorcycle's a good way to die,
this must bereave you.
I know that you try so hard,
and I'm not saying it's a sin,
it's just that they don't feel my pain,
in Vogue or Cosmopolitan.
And I'm sure you have your reasons,
but listen to me please...
I want the G.I. Joe with the Kung-Fu action grip.
I want Nintendo with the extra-graphics-microchip.
Tackle football with rocks, and sticks, and knives, and pain...
I want a truck with the four wheel drive train.
You'd rather see me get good at bookkeepping,
I could clean house in the time that I'm not sleeping.
I live to serve you, and I don't want to be rude,
but you should see that the wizard needs food.
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