From the Albums:
* Face it
* Last blast of the century
You cook my brain in your favorite pot
You fry my eggs till theyâ"š¬â"ž¢re sizzlinâ"š¬â"ž¢ hot
You like to give it everythinâ"š¬â"ž¢ you got
and everythinâ"š¬â"ž¢s for free, everythinâ"š¬â"ž¢ for free
Make all the girls at the beauty parlor
Jump up and down and scream and holler
Just like a lapdog on a leash with a collar
Thatâ"š¬â"ž¢s what youâ"š¬â"ž¢re makinâ"š¬â"ž¢ me, thatâ"š¬â"ž¢s what you make outta me
I ainâ"š¬â"ž¢t no professor, I ainâ"š¬â"ž¢t got no degree
but I sure as hell know how to read
the little notes you keep sendinâ"š¬â"ž¢
The bottom line always gets to me
What do you mean?
Legalize, legalize, legalize telepathy
Legalize, legalize, legalize telepathy
You always go where I wanna be goinâ"š¬â"ž¢
You always know what I wanna be knowinâ"š¬â"ž¢
You always do what I wanna be doinâ"š¬â"ž¢
now ainâ"š¬â"ž¢t that telepathy, with a capital E.S.P..?