The monkey sat on a pile of stones And stared at the broken bone in his hand And the stains of a Viennese quartet Rang out across the land The monkey looked up at the stars And thought to himself Memory is a stranger History is for fools And he cleaned his hands In a pool of holy writing Turned his back on the garden And set out for the nearest town Hold on hold on soldier When you add it all up The tears and the marrowbone There's an ounce of gold And an ounce of pride in each ledger And the Germans killed the Jews And the Jews killed the Arabs And the Arabs killed the hostages And that is the news And is it any wonder That the monkey's confused He said Mama Mama The President's a fool Why do I have to keep reading These technical manuals