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!”