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