everybody wants to dance in a playpen
  but nobody wants to play in my garden
  I see the hippies on an angry line
  guess they don't get my meaning
  I'm enchanted by the birds in my blossoms
  I'm enamored by young lovers on the weekend
  I like the Fourth of July
  when bombs start flashing
  and I wish I had a shiny red top
  a bugle with a big brass bell would cheer me up
  or maybe something bigger that could really go pop!
  so I could make the gardening stop
  come out to play
  come out to play
  and we'll pretend it's Christmas Day
  in my atomic garden
  all my scientists are working on a deadline
  so my psychologist is working day and night time
  they say they know what's best for me
  but tehye don't know what they're doing
  and I'm glad I'm not Gorbachev
  'cause I'd wiggle all night
  like jelly in a pot
  at leats he's got a garden with a fertile plot
  and a party that will never stop
  I hope there's nothing wrong out there
  I'm watching from my room inside my room