The studded cinctures were a band   From gloomy Ann harbor, Michigan   And they wrote just for you   These irrelevant tunes      And with each heart-wrenching, fictitious wail   You'd swear they sang your life with veracious details   The tears trickle down your face   Your skinny arms begin to flail      You can catch them any day of the week   At the legion hall down the street   In your unromantic town   They're guaranteed to bring you down      And as the clumsy singer takes the stage   He whips the mic in an ardent way   And now the girls begin to blush   Never had they've been so terribly touched   By such an illiterate bum      Oh, won't you say what you mean   Give us a moment of offering   Perhaps a pinch of your view   We love the second-rating, the repetition   The metaphors stripped of all gail, alright      With a handful of pomade in hair   He shoots a pitifully pouty stare   At the nurtured audience   And this is easing his conscience      Hustling and taking knee with brow in hand   He shrieks the works of another man   A standing ovation   Vulnerable child, you've been taken advantage of   By such a carnivorous bum      Oh, won't you say what you mean   Give us a moment of offering   Perhaps a pinch of your view   We love the second-rating, the repetition   And the metaphors stripped of all gail, stripped of all gail      Oh, won't you say what you mean   Give us a moment of offering   Perhaps a pinch of your view   We love the second-rating      Oh, won't you say what you mean   Give us a moment of offering   Perhaps a pinch of your views   We all love the second-rating, the repetition   And the metaphors