Every village has to have an idiot Some harmless monster to soak up all our fears Ours hangs at the Hartsdale Cheesery Writing down the license of every car he sees Lots of stories how he got that way No one knows where he goes at the end of the day We threw rocks at him when we were nine Stared us down with the pride of Frankenstein He's got the pride of Frankenstein Sometimes I feel like that village idiot A babbling fool that children should avoid My smile's too wide, my shoes don't stay tied I can't get a decent haircut to save my life Baby it's sad, baby it's a fact There are people with torches for people like that This is a song for those who can't sing I want to buy you all a diamond ring And if those diamond rings don't shine We can all share a jug of cheap red wine And the pride of Frankenstein