Text: Of Montreal. My What A Strange Day With A Swede.

When I rode in a trolley across your face
With a Swedish man
I bet that wasn't in your plans for the day
My, what a strange day for poor little Nietzsche

Why so forlorn?
You know we love you, Nietzsche
And all of your friends have come to see you, Nietzsche
So let us see you, Nietzsche
Everyone's waiting, Nietzsche
Don't be so sneaky

When he smeared a candy bar across your face
With a gloveless hand
I thought you'd never stop lashing the Swede
My, what a strange day for poor little Nietzsche

What more could be done on a day like today
Then to lock up your heart and quickly swallow the key?
Now I'm going to tell you something we can do
If you cut off my head, I'll cut yours off for you
I'll cut it off for you

Poor little Nietzsche
Don't be so sneaky
What more could be done on a day like today
Then to lock up your heart and quickly swallow the key?

I like the image of us tossing our heads at a Swedish man
I bet he'd never telephone us again
Not even to say
My, what a strange day for poor little Nietzsche