There's an old virginian vibraphone With a calculated gait And a man who thinks he's al capone With a cumberbund and cape Don't criticize what a vicar would prize in you And talk to the man if you feel he needs talking to And the hobbit on the rocks is crying And the fish upon the docks are dying There's an orchestra in rococo And an insulated dwarf And the ships are sinking in the sea As they sail from the shores Don't criticize what a vicar would prize in you And the hobbit on the rocks is crying And the fish upon the docks are dying And the hobbit on the rocks is crying For the grunion in the sand entwining Don't criticize what a vicar would prize in you And talk to yourself if you feel you need talking to