I can't help, my fingers tingle,
I don't know where this will end;
in the crowded shops I mingle,
no-one know what I intend.
Oh what fierce and deep revulsion!
See, I wear the mark of Cain.
what a strange and sweet compulsion.
"The cookie crusher strikes again."

Twisting loaves, I show no pity,
fingers clenched, I tear and rend.
Panic runs throughout the city,
like a phantom I descend.
Oh what dark mysterious notions
run within this fevered brain,
acting out my dread devotions
"The cookie crusher strikes again."

Hear my words now - when I've spoken
time for you to turn away.
Like the loaves that I have broken,
I was touched upon that day.
Supermarket, super budget
wrapped and packed in cellophane
You can look, but if you touch it
"The cookie crusher strikes again!"

I thought there just might be another side to this.