There was a dead rat beneath the windows of my building
Of my building, of my building
And (a) children would point sticks at it
And poke

And (a) when it got itself all frozen dead the night before
While Mr. Jones and Ms. Gonzalez were out having a good smoke
Having a good smoke

Old Charlie with a walker
Was out thinking in Milwaukee
As he downed another good essentiant beer

And so he hadn't noted that the cold winds were the closest
And so he hadn't noticed that the night was drawing near
But what's one less in a world of so many
When only mushroom clouds can leave ripples on our souls?

What's one less?
Either way we got a mess
And no one hears the call anymore
Anymore, anymore, anymore

There was a dead rat beneath the windows of my building
Of my building, of my building
And (a) children would point sticks at it
And poke

And (a) when it got itself all frozen dead the night before
While Mr. Jones and Ms. Gonzalez were out having a good smoke
Having a good