what's the matter with the songs I'm writing,
do narcotics send me off the wall?
how about a pair of nice love ballads
do you think they'd make you laugh at all?
some of you will think I'm too psychotic,
trust me, this is from the new narcotics
everybody's talkin bout the new stuff baby,
and it's still from the surgery

what's the matter with the words I'm rhyming?
get a book baby, look them up
write a song about a soup bowl baby,
do you sip or slop or do you sup?
I still stick to my two favourite subjects
I get this mileage from sex and body functions,
farts stunk, who thunk, I would write some new junk,
it's still from the surgery

oh it doesn't matter what they say in the comments,
cause it's always the same old stuff
there's a new king in town,
but I can't get around cause I think I've nearly had enough
cause all of them are off the cuff

how about a little transie dittie
bout a girl with a ten inch thing,
I can write about the tape, and the tucking,
or how now she quickly "tucks it in"
how you you hide it all big red and veinous
she would tell you that's why she has an anus
one fold, she's gold, put it in her back hole,
it's still from the surgery

what's the matter with my songs I'm writing,
do you think I write a little too much
demerol can make your back teeth chatter,
but the morphine's turned my brain to mush
sitting here I write the songs with true dedication,
half an hour later, I get more medication,
this mug, just loves new drugs, baby
cause it's still from the surgery

this mug, just loves new drugs, baby
cause it's still from the surgery