My name is Mister Jones
I get inside your bones
I know just how to make you tweak
You soon will be my freak
Because I know what you need
I control your mind
I roll up your sleeves
I make ties that bind
You'll soon be begging on your knees
You've got the disease
I cant seem to live without you
Without you what's the «point»
«I wasn't born with a silver burnt spoon
Mr. Jones do I still have any choice?»