From the Albums:

* Face it

* Last blast of the century



You cook my brain in your favorite pot

You fry my eggs till they're sizzlin' hot

You like to give it everythin' you got

and everythin's for free, everythin' 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

That's what you're makin' me, that's what you make outta me

I ain't no professor, I ain't got no degree

but I sure as hell know how to read

the little notes you keep sendin'

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 goin'

You always know what I wanna be knowin'

You always do what I wanna be doin'

now ain't that telepathy, with a capital E.S.P..?