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?"
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?