The morning paper is not the same
A man is smiling, do you know his name?
He's shaking hands with the president
It almost seems as though he's heaven sent

Frenzied crowd:
(I'm mad about... I'm mad about you)

Narrator:
Chorus:
He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tattoo!)
He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tattoo!)
Something inside tells you to hide
You cannot decide what to do

Person in crowd:
(Full of wonder)
Oh, no! What's wrong? Something's on his face!

Crowd:
I know it's crazy, but now there's not a trace!
(I'm mad about... I'm mad about you)

Narrator:
Chorus:
He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tattoo!)

Goon squad:
(Gonna' do a number on you)

Narrator:
He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tattoo!)

Goon squad:
(Gonna' do a number on you)

Narrator:
Something inside tells you to hide
You cannot decide what to do, cannot decide what to
Think of this guy, is there a pie in the sky?
I'd hate to imply that I knew

Zombie like crowd:
He's got a friend, it seems there is no end
To the tricks that he'll do, always on cue
Standing in line, it's so divine
Can we choose the place, my hand or my face?

Computerized clerk:
Next, next, next, next...