everybody wants to dance in a playpen

but nobody wants to play in my garden

I see the hippies on an angry line

guess they don't get my meaning

I'm enchanted by the birds in my blossoms

I'm enamored by young lovers on the weekend

I like the Fourth of July

when bombs start flashing

and I wish I had a shiny red top

a bugle with a big brass bell would cheer me up

or maybe something bigger that could really go pop!

so I could make the gardening stop

come out to play

come out to play

and we'll pretend it's Christmas Day

in my atomic garden

all my scientists are working on a deadline

so my psychologist is working day and night time

they say they know what's best for me

but tehye don't know what they're doing

and I'm glad I'm not Gorbachev

'cause I'd wiggle all night

like jelly in a pot

at leats he's got a garden with a fertile plot

and a party that will never stop

I hope there's nothing wrong out there

I'm watching from my room inside my room