Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee
They’re throwing knives into the tree
Two big bags of dead man’s bones
Got their noses to the grindstones
Living in the Land of Nod
Trustin’ their fate to the hands of God
They pass by so silently
Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee
Well, they’re going to the country, they’re gonna retire
They’re taking a street car named Desire
Looking in the window at the pecan pie
Lot of things they’d like they would never buy
Neither one gonna turn and run
They’re making a voyage to the sun
“His Master’s voice is calling me,”
Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee
Tweedle-dee Dee and Tweedle-dee Dum
All that and more and then some
They walk among the stately trees
They know the secrets of the breeze
Tweedle-dee Dum says to Tweedle-dee Dee
“Your presence is obnoxious to me.”
They’re like babies sittin’ on a woman’s knee
Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee
Well, they’re living in a happy harmony
Tweedle-dee Dum and Tweedle-dee Dee
They’re one day older and a dollar short
They’ve got a parade permit and a police escort
Tweedle-dee Dee—he’s on his hands and his knees
Saying, “Throw me somethin’, Mister, please.”
“What’s good for you is good for me,”
Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee
Well a childish dream is a deathless need
And a noble truth is a sacred creed
They’re lying low and they’re makin’ hay
They seem determined to go all the way
One is a lowdown, sorry old man
The other will stab you where you stand
“I’ve had too much of your company,”
Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee