Narrator: 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 tatoo!) He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tatoo!) 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 tatoo!) Goon squad: (Gonna' do a number on you) Narrator: He's gonna' do a number on you (a very strange tatoo!) 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...