A singer's not what I wanted to be,
My voice is so tuneless, My playing is careless,
I don't know who'd want to make a CD,
Of 11 or 12 songs that all sound the same,
And the radio stations are playing it all day,

I've become so dumb, I can peel my hair,
Cause there's so much gel in it everywhere,
I'm becoming pissed, I can't tie my shoe,
And my dog is dead, all because of you,

I have made a discovery,
When I'm on stage I feel all short of breath,
And I shake uncontrollably,
If this keeps up, it might result in death,
And I faint on the stage, And the doctors say oh well,
I'll just die anyway, and I'll see you all in...

I've become so dumb, My music's a bore,
Makes you want to drop it onto the floor,
If you want to play, Ultimate Frisbee,
And you don't have one, Just use my CD.