Something's in the bag Something's in the bag Something's in the bag The parking lot The air was hot I heard a sound From the ground I turned around Something's in the bag (mommy) I came up slow I had to know A garbled quack The squirming sack No turning back It was alive It looked right through me I could feel the veins on my neck Begin to pulsate and throb Like a secretary pounding out A hundred and fifty words per minute On an IBM electric typewriter I gasped for breath I fell to my knees I was powerless in its presence How can I describe what I saw I can't Something's in the bag (mommy) The screeching wheel Horrendous squeal I had to see Could it still be I looked inside Softly it cried Something's in the bag (mommy) Yeah.
