Outside my window thereґs a
Whole lot of [bad word] 
The cartoon killers and the
Rag cover clones
Stack heels kickinґ rhythm
Of social circumcision
Canґt close the closet on
Shoe box full of bones

Kangaroo lady with her bourbon
in a pouch
Canґt afford the rental on
a bamboo couch
Collecting back her favors ґcause her
well [bad word] dry
I know her act is terminal,
But she ainґt gonna die

Slim intoxicado drinkinґ dime
store hooch
Is always in a circle with his
part-time pooch
Little creepyґs playing dollies in the
New York rain
Thinkinґ Bowieґs just a knife
Ooh the pain

I ainґt seen the sun since I donґt
know when
The [bad word] out at nine
And itґs twenty to ten
Whatґs this funk
That you call junk
To me itґs just monkey business

Blind man in the vox that will
probably die
The village kids laugh as they walk by
psycho is on the edge of this human
garbage dump
And the vultures in the sewers
are telling
Him to jump

Into the fire from the frying pan
Tripping on his tounge
For a cool place to stand
Whereґs this shade
That youґve got it made
To me itґs just monkey business

Monkey business
Slippinґ on the track
Monkey business
Jungle in black
Ainґt your business if I got
No monkey on my back

Monkey business
Slippinґ on the track
Monkey business
Jungle in black
Ainґt your business
If I got
Monkeyґs on my back

The vaseline gypsies and silicone souls
Dressed to the society
Hypocrite heartbeat and cheap alibis
Canґt get you by that monkey