Lyrics: The Rider

Of outrageous extravagance

From way up here

Show my talent and elegance

I have some weird peccadillos

Stick 'em on the rider

When I arrive

I want some heel-clickers

After my doughnut

A couple of lip-lickers

Moisturise them both

Then slap 'em on the rider

Woe is me

I'll let you know when I'm ready to sing

I can't exist

Can't do my thing

Without a brace of

Super hot psycho-ologists

Cover my back

With a sincere apologist

And where's the Dom?

I know I wrote it in the rider

Take me up in a

Private elevator

And don't forget to book a

Bliss appropriator

What happened to the last guy

Check it in the rider

Woe is me

You'll never know when I'm ready to sing

I can't exist

Can't do my thing

Keep 'em waiting

While I prefer to stay

Catch a live performance

Just for me, Cirque du Soleil

Woe is me

I'll let you know

When I'm ready to sing

I can't exist

Can't do my thing

Don't call me precious

Priceless is just fine

I'm worth even more

In this here swollen head of mine

Before I dance, get my

Poddy-macologist

I got bumps now

Where's my phrenologist

I'm off to the Funny Farm

It's all there in the rider