You raise up your head And ask "Is this where it is?" And somebody points to you And says "It's his" And you say "What's mine?" Somebody else says "Where what is?" And you say "Oh, my God Am I here all alone?" And you know something's happenin' But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You hand in your ticket Then you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says "How does it feel To be such a freak?" You say "Impossible" As he hands you a bone And you know something's happenin' But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Ah, you have many contacts Among the lumberjacks To get you facts When someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway they already expect you To all give a check To tax-deductible charity organization, oh yeah, yeah, yeah You walk into the room Like a camel and you frown You put your eyes in your pocket And your nose on the ground There ought to be a law Against you comin' around You should be made To wear earphone And you know something's happenin' But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Do you, Mister Jones?