Dull as dirt You can't assert the kind of light That might persuade a strict dictator to retire Fire the army teach the poor origami The truth is in the proof is when You hear your heart start asking, "What's my motivation?" And try as you may, there isn't a way To explain the kind of change That would make an Eskimo renounce fur That would make a vegetarian barbecue hamster Unless you can trace this about-face To a certain sign...
Chorus Shine Make 'em wonder what you've got Make 'em wish that they were not On the outside looking bored Shine Let it shine before all men Let 'em see good works, and then Let 'em glorify the Lord
Out of the shaker and onto the plate It isn't Karma It sure ain't fate That would make a Deadhead sell his van That would make a schizophrenic turn in his crayons Oprah freaks And science seeks a rationale That shall excuse This strange behavior When you let it shine You will inspire The kind of entire turnaround That would make a bouncer take ballet (even bouncers who aren't happy) But out of the glare With nowhere to turn You ain't gonna learn it on "What's My Line?"
