I had a little monkey
I sent him to the country
And I fed him on gingerbread
Along came a choo choo,
Knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey's dead
At least he looks that way,
But then again don't we all?

(What I make is what I am, I can't be forever)

I had a little monkey
I sent him to the country
And I fed him on gingerbread
Along came a choo choo,
Knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey's dead
Poor little monkey

"make you...break you...make you...break you...lookout"
(what I make is what I am, I can't be forever)

We are out own wicked gods
With little "g's" and big [bad word] 
Sadistic and constantly inflicting a slow demise

I sent him to the country
And I fed him on gingerbread
Along came a choo choo,
Knocked my monkey coo-coo
And now my monkey's dead

The primate's scream of consonance is a reflection
Of his own mind's dissonance