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Ice Cream Truck.
Here it comes. Here it comes.
Here it comes again.
Here it comes, the ice cream truck.
People flyin out the doors, runnin up the street.
They really love their music.
Man, it's just my luck.
Baby! Baby! Baby! Come here quick.
The melody's about to make me sick.
Baby! Baby! Baby! Shut that door.
I don't think I can stand anymore.

There's too much music in the land.
You hear it everywhere.
Everybody's in a band - can't get enough of it.
Brother Jimmy,
Cousin Ray,
Mom and Dad on bass and drums -
someone here's just gotta quit.
Baby! Baby! Baby! Come here quick.
The melody's about to make me sick.
Baby! Baby! Baby! Shut that door.
I don't think I can stand anymore.

It's not the sugar.
It's not the sticky sludge.
People wanna eat that stuff I don't hold a grudge.
It's that music - there's too much of it.
I wish someone had the guts to quit.

Writers: Cutler-Jones-Krauss-Maimone-Ravenstine-Thomas.
Lyrics by David Thomas.