Blood on the T.V., ten o´clock news.
Souls are invaded, heart in a groove.
Beatin´ and beatin´ so outta time.
What´s the mad matter with the church chimes?
Here comes a stranger up on Ninth Avenue.

Leanin´ green tower, indiscreet view.
Over the cloud, over the bridge,
sensitive muscle, sensitive ridge of my
space monkey. Sign of the time-time
Space monkey, so outta line-line.
Space monkey, sort of divine.
And he´s mine, mine, all mine.

Pierre Clementi, snot full o´ cocaine.
The sexual streets, why it´s all so insane.
Humans are running, lavender room.
Hoverin´ liquid, move over moon for my
space monkey. Sign of the time-time
Space monkey, sort of divine-vine
Space monkey, so out of line and he´s mine, mine, oh he´s mine

(spoken)

A stranger comes up to him; hands him an old, rusty Polaroid.
It starts crumbling in his hands.
He says, "Oh man, I don´t get the picture. This is no picture.
This is just...this just-a...this just-a...
This is my jack-knife. This is my jack-knife.
This is my jack-knife. This is my jack." [shriek]

Rude excavation, landin´ site.
Boy hesitatin´, jack-knife.
He rips his leg open, so out of time.
Blood and light runnin´. It´s all like a dream.
Light of my life, he´s dressed in flame.
It´s all so predestined. It´s all such a game for my
space monkey. Sign of the time-time.

Space monkey, sort of divine-vine.
Space monkey, so out of line and it´s all just space, just space.

There he is, up in a tree.
Oh, I hear him callin´ down to me.
That banana-shaped object ain´t no banana.
It´s a bright, yellow U.F.O.
And he´s coming to get me. Here I go.
Up, up, up, up, up, up, up ,up, up ...
Oh, goodbye mama. I´ll never do dishes again.
Here I go from my body.
Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Help!