Lyrics

Fruitcakes in the kitchen
Fruitcakes on the street
Struttin’ naked through the cross walk
In the middle of the week

Half baked cookies in the oven
Half baked people on my bus
There’s a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Paradise – Lost and found
Paradise – take a look around

I was out in California
Where I hear they have it all
They got riots, fires and mud slides
They got sushi in the mall
Water bars and Brontosaurs
Chinese modern lust
Shake and bake life with the quake
The secrets in the crust

Fruitcakes in the kitchen
Fruitcakes on the street
Struttin’ naked through the cross walk
In the middle of the week

Half baked cookies in the oven
Half baked people on my bus
There’s a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

We lost our Martian rocket ship
The high paid spokesman said
Looks like that silly rocket ship
Has lost it’s cone-shaped head

We spent ninety jillion dollars
Tryin’ to get a look at Mars
I hear universal laughter
Ringing out among the stars

Fruitcakes in the galaxy
Fruitcakes on the beach
Strut naked towards eternity
Over on the spacecoast on cocoa beach

Half baked cookies in the oven
Half baked people on the bus
There’s a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Religion, Get some
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

Where’s the church, there’s the steeple
Religion’s in the hands of some crazy ass people
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples
The God’s honest truth is it’s not that simple

It’s the Buddhist in you, it’s the pagan in me
It’s the Muslim in him, she’s Catholic ain’t she?
It’s that born again look, it’s the wasp and the Jew
Tell me please rastaman, I ain’t got a clue

She said you’ve got to do your fair share
Now cough up half the rent
I treat this body like a temple
You treat yours like a tent

But the right word at the right time
May get me a little hug
That’s the difference between lightning
And a harmless lightning bug

Fruitcakes in the kitchen
Fruitcakes on the street
Struttin’ naked through the cross walk
In the middle of the week

Half baked cookies in the oven
Half baked people on my bus
There’s a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Less than two years ’til that millennium
That’s a science fiction fact
Stanley Kubrick and his buddy Hal
Now don’t look that abstract

So I’ll put on my Bob Marley tape
And practice what I preach
Get Ja lost in the reggae mon
As I walk along the beach

Stay in touch with my insanity
Really is the only way
It’s a jungle out there kiddies
Have a very fruitful day