This mailbox is mine
And this triangunal sign
The blue balloon, the month of June
They’re mine, mine, mine, mine, mine

Ziggy’s sweets are mine
That birdy’s tweets are mine
The city streets, the both of your feet
They’re all emphatically mine

It all belongs to me
Everything that I see
North, South, East and West
I caress it, ‘cause I possess it
I’m Stingy and it’s mi-i-ne

And this [bad word] break is also mine

The floor and the ceiling are mine
All your feelings are mine
You always new it,
That’s all there is to it
It’s mine, mine, mine, mine, mine

That’s what I said: “It’s mine!”