Arnie works the cyclone at the state fair; Says he's in it for the chicks. Smokes about two packs of cigarettes each day, And he drinks just like a fish. Arnie never talks of family, And he never found a wife. He sleeps with the bearded lady, So does the guy that swallows knives. Oh, and I... I'm quite a lot like him. Oh, and I... I'm quite a lot like him. Oh, and I... I'm quite a lot like him, I swear. Arnie talks as if someday he'll leave If the right thing comes along. A distant dream as a mercenary marine Is a dream that's long gone. My eyes... my eyes, they're not like his; Maybe a little. God, I wish my eyes were just like his. Arnie's on the road eight months each year; Winters down south where it's warm. He's in a trailer park in Sarasota, Getting drunk with the clowns.