there's a time and a place   this is neither the time nor place   where do i fit in   in this jig-saw of a relationship   why should i play the fall-guy to love   i keep getting snubbed    what dumb luck, what dumbe luck      so rub it in with your dumb lyrics   yeah that's the time and place    to wring out your bullshit   and each album i get shit on a little more      who's tim's latest whore?   now, that's not fair   no that's just obscene   i'll stop speaking for you if you stop speaking for me      i'm writing songs to entertain   but these people they just want   they...they just want pain   they want to hear my deepest sins   the songs from the ugly organ      and what comes out is a horrible mess   songs i can't forget, what's been said   and this guilt i can't shed   still rings in my ears, again at the butcher's knife   i've been screaming for years but it gets me nowhere   just get out the butcher's knife      that organ's playing my song   but the song's gone on too long   what a day to sever such ugly extremities   what a lovely day, says the butcher as he raises his arm      ...and i am what is left: a puppet. Laughing at the look    of amazement on the musician's face, pinocchio dove    off the cliff and swam away