You walk into the room
With a pencil in your hand
You see somebody yelling
And you wonder at his plan
You try so hard
But you just don’t understand
Just what you’ll write
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your hand
And ask, is this where it’s at?
Somebody points at you and says
So what about that?
And you ask, what’s theirs?
And someone else asks, who cares?
And you think, oh my god
Am I here all alone?

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your pass
And you go watch the Creep
Who comes up to you afterwards
Having heard you speak
And he says how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, it’s imponderable
As he hands you the phone

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the other hacks
To get your facts
When someone attacks your imagination
They have no regrets
But they still expect
To get a blank cheque
To bolster their organization

You’ve been with professoris
And they’ve liked your looks
You’ve discussed with lawyers
All the assholes and crooks
You’ve sifted through the contents
Of all the great books
You’re very well read
It’s well known

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

The codswalloper, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
Pretending to pay homage
He clicks his regulation heels
Then without further notice
He aks you how it feels
And gives your identity back
Saying, thanks for the loan

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see the pea-brained midget
Bulldozing his way through
And you ask for what reason?
And he says, what’s it to you?
Then you ask, what does this mean?
And he threatens the others too
To tow the line
Or else he’ll ‘send you home’

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a dog without a bone
You got your ears inside your pocket
And your eyes inside your phone
There ain’t no law
Against you comin around
But if you write the truth
Watch out for the groan

Because something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Could be tricky singing it if you don’t know the song!

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