Lyrics
Whispers:
You've never been closer, closer, closer.
The darkness is our enemy, enemy, enemy.
Spin me a cocoon.
Alvin:
Look at that Scuzzy. Over in the clearing.
Brittany:
What do you think it is Moldy?
Alvin:
I don't know. Maybe an alien mother-ship.
Brittany:
Ah, what makes you think that?
Alvin:
Call it instinct.
Brittany:
Uh, I call it unscientific. You and your guesses.
Ah, why don't you go to Vegas where you belong?
Alvin:
Scuzzy, it's taking off! Let's follow it.
Brittany:
We're too young to drive.
Alvin:
We've got to go. The truth is out there.
Brittany:
I wonder what's inside.
Alvin:
Green, prehistoric bugs. Extraterrestrial DNA. Big blue.
Brittany:
Ah, is that another one of your hunches.
Alvin:
An educated hunch.
Brittany:
It, it's landing!
Alien:
Do you know where they're holding the Roswell celebration?
Alvin:
I think it's in Roswell.
Alien:
Is that a guess or a fact?
Alvin:
An educated guess.
Brittany:
It's near Las Legas.
Alien:
Oh yes, where Elvis played.
Brittany:
Elvis is dead.
Alien:
No he's not. Oops, you didn't hear that from me. Thank you.
Alvin:
Say it Scuzzy.
Brittany:
Ah, okay.
Science is no match, ah, for a good guesser.
Alvin:
Ten times.
Brittany:
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.
Science is no match for a good guesser.