Inside every teenage girl there´s a fountain
Inside every young pair of pants there´s a mountain
Inside every mother´s eyes is Tommy Tinkrem´s bed
Inside every candidate waits a grateful dead

I make it a thing, when I´m on my own to relieve myself
I make it a thing, when I gazelle on stage to believe in myself
I make it a thing, to glance in window panes and look pleased with myself
Yeah, and pretend I´m walking home

I took it so bad, I sat in the correction room
Took me a fag, and a kick in the moon
Well, I ain´t gonna suck no radar wing
Because inside this tin is tin
Would you like to techno-plate cause I´m your candidate
Oh yeah

It´s a matter of life

And the way you walk, you´ve got a BrylCream queen
It´s a matter of tact
In the things you talk, that keeps his passport clean
A matter of fact
That a cock ain´t a cock on a twelve inch screen
So I´ll pretend I´m walking home

You don´t have to scream a lot to keep an age in tune
You don´t have to scream a lot to predict monsoons
You don´t have to paint my contact black
Now I´ve hustled a pair of jeans
Do I have to give your money back when I´m the Fuhrerling

I´ll make you a deal
I´ll say I came from from Earth and my tongue is taped
I´ll make you a deal
You can get your kicks on the candidate
I´ll make you a deal
For your future´s sake, I´m the candidate
Let´s pretend we´re walking home

uh-huh, uh-huh
I´m the candidate
I´m the candidate
Vote now for the candidate