1-2-8

They made something, they played something
Brand new a baby blue machine
Brass tacks, duct tape for the great escape
Packed in there like sardines

Back and forth, East, South, West, North
Shred the atlas, burn the map
Often lost and paths criss-crossed, wake me up I need a nap

1, 2 what's in the stew?
3, 4 no one's really sure
5, 6 what's in the mix?
7, 8 this stuff tastes

They did something, which meant something and that got them some attention
(Eyes wide)
A roller coaster ride, great pride in this invention

I think they're selling snake oil at the dog and pony show
And in the garden gee, would you pardon me?
And by the way how does it grow?

1, 2 what's in the stew?
3, 4 no one's really sure
5, 6 what's in the mix?
7, 8 this stuff tastes

Yeah

The explanation's unexplainable, holding onto something once dreamt unattainable
The course was never charted so don't look into the books

The secret's not the recipe, it's got to be the cooks
They made something, they played something
Blood, sweat, and elbow grease
Well, if you can't stand the heat in the kitchen
Get out it will increase

Last train to where? Hey get out of here
Nothing's measured and nothing's weighed
A dash of honesty in the recipe and that's the first mistake you've made

1, 2 what's in the stew?
3, 4 no one's really sure
5, 6 what's in the mix?
7, 8 hey this stuff tastes

1, 2 what's in the stew?
3, 4 (3, 4) no one's really sure
5, 6 (5, 6) what's in the mix?
7, 8 this stuff tastes

(Great)



Credits
Writer(s): Dicky Barrett, Joseph Gittleman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link