Born Again

It's Sunday night, between nine and ten,
And I realize I can't remember since when
I've had this bizarre social disease;
I make people look tame who have OCD's.
I'd tell you my story, but it would take a while,
And right now, shh! it's time for 'X-Files'.

So for the next hour, I sit and I think,
"Are aliens here?" and "How bad do Morleys stink?"
And, "Too bad Krycek's a rat, because that man is fine!"
And, "Are the Lone Gunmen's lives as pathetic as mine?"
So, I think and crunch another sunflower seed.
It's 'X-Files' time. That's all that I need.

And I'll learn a lot, too, without effort Herculean,
Like not to stand in people's shadows and what color's cerulean,
And if I get plastic surgery, before I get the gas,
I'll double check that the surgeon won't get evil on my ass!
I'll learn a good arm's essential for a from-right-field throw.
It's 'X-Files' time. That's all that I know.

And I'll find new ways as well to express how I'm feeling.
When I'm bored, I'll toss pencils up into the ceiling.
I'll sing "Shaft" when in a state of discombobulation,
And hope my death won't involve auto-erotic asphyxiation.
I'll use the term "Bleep!" when I need to be blunt.
It's 'X-Files' time. That's all that I want.

And I'll wish for blue eyes and hair of vermilion,
So a handsome man will tell me I'm his one in five billion.
I'll avoid the show 'Friends' 'cause of that ditzy chick,
Because women named Phoebe make me very sick.
I'll wish death for Agent Fowley to rain down from above.
It's 'X-Files' time. That's all that I love.

The show's starting now; it's got my full attention.
Time for UFO's and unresolved sexual tension.
Time for skeptics and believers to watch and unite.
Time for conspiracies to be brought out into the light.
Time for pulses to pound and hearts to beat unsteady;
It's 'X-Files' time. So I'll shut the hell up already!