They Might Be Giants Lyric Quiz

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Can you name the TMBG songs containing the following lyrics?

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LyricSong Title
Now I'm done chewing my nails/ Hanging my head, chasing my tail
My mind naturally turns to taxidermy
I'd steal all the microphones/ From all the masters of ceremony
Somebody put their fingers in the President's ears/ It wasn't too much later they came out with Johnson's wax
But they're like the people chained up in the cave/ In the allegory of the people in the cave by the Greek guy
The check’s in the mail, and I’ll see you in church, and don’t you ever change
I don't know whether I'd rather be having a bottle of vinegar/ I don't know whether I'd rather be having an egg
But there it was in the aisle by the exit sign/ A woofer covered in wood/ To shake the womb when it should
They don’t need me here, and I know you’re there
Wake up and smell the cat food/ In your bank account
And even though I can't explain it/ I already know how great it's gonna—yeah!
We nix the glaben/ The knifey-knife is staben
Ladies and gentlemen!
This could lead to excellence/ Or serious injury
And the message they detect/ From across the Milky Way/ Says the aliens want to join us for lunch
Though I respect that a lot/ I'd be fired if that were my job/ After killing Jason off/ And countless screaming Argonauts
I'm inspired by events/ To remember the exits in back of me
So I'm rattlin' the bars around this drink tank/ Discreetly I should pour through the keyhole/ Or evaporate completely
LyricSong Title
You said 'I'm gonna run you down'/ I heard 'I'm an orangutan'
This is the way/ The talking part goes
You took a sip and lost your place/ Three many windows shining back in your face
So that's why I'm writing this now/ And you can tell my sister the cow/ That I meant to thank her for the gorgonzola
I didn't expect to find a salesman drinking coffee this late in the morning
Serve it with a shovel/ Or serve it on a spork
Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat/ And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes
So turn off your smoke machine/ And Marshall stack
Grade on a curve/ And you'll observe/ I'm right below the horizon
Run around in the rain with a hole in the brain till tomorrow
I need some juice./ I got some juice.
Well the bellhop is funky/ the dumbwaiter’s a monkey
And you're nothing but air, with your hand in the air/ And your shoelaces tied up together with care
Before you fall, you have to learn to crawl/ You can't see heaven when you're standing tall
May I direct your attention to the following simile?
Big hand’s on 120/ Little hand’s on E
See the hands of the grandfather clock unwinding/ see the hands of my offspring making windmills
Don’t bother to call this room/ There’s nobody here who can pick up

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