In a little whlie from now
I'll bet I'll be feeling down.
I promised myself I'd get myself
to get to the next-door town.
I'd walk up to the house
and there would be a louse
who's the opposite of the things you get
when it's me to whom you're talking.
He don't like Zeta-Jones.
'Cause the bones he'll wish he's jumping
he gets his guilt in Paris Hilton.
She just leaves me grumping.
And if he likes the Mets
with my face, what do you get?
My evil twin, naturally.

To think that only yesterday
"Alone, naturally," I'd say.
But then I found out
and it made me pout
he's got Republican's ways.
And he likes Cheney's heft.
Thinks Rumsfeld's far too left.
But the poll he'll see
down to 33
left his heart in little pieces
leaving him to doubt
talk about God, who ain't right-wing.
"For if he truly does exist
he'll hit Clinton with lightning!"
It's making my brain bleed.
He truly is indeed
my evil twin, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts
breaking in the world
'cause he likes disco.
His brain has flipped so.
What do I do?
What do I do?

(instrumental break)

My evil twin, naturally.

And looking at his goatee
just like Spock, don't you say?
I remember how I cried when my mother lied.
"You're an only child." No way.
But at 36 years old
my brother with twisted soul
he can't understand why I'm this good man.
Junk is my food and his music.
Leaving him to write
but they're trite, his parodies stink.
He even rebuffs Arwen's stuff.
He's psycho, that's what I think.
And when he goes away
I'll feel relieved all day!
My evil twin, naturally.

My evil twin.
Naturally.