We're the fish men and the sea apes   Look at our tails and scales   And our big tough leader, away he wails      He thinks he is the king pin but he's outraced   By those little weedy stranger with the grin on his face   But that is the illusionist, the circus man   And the whole man murdering sea is his caravan      Eat air croquettes, my children dear   If you want to save yourself time and tears   History picnickers follow me   Evolution up the slopes of the sea   Up the slopes of the sea, up the slopes of the sea      Out on the land, out on the land singing hurray   While a million years pass by and we get well on our way   Grandma clears the trash left by previous picnic slaves   And with just one swipe of her ragged fins uncovers the caves      Singing Billy go store the map safely underground   He does but what is this that he has found      The map has gone how will we grow old   Grandma's tears have made the barbecue cold   I find myself saying here's where I came in   The illusionist has vanished like a red hot gin   Like a red hot gin, like a red hot gin      Oh yeah