Original lyrics
ENHoney, I'm with the Flinch Mob.
I'll clean up your inkspot.
I love just the red dot.
Pencil through my hand.
You always go to work sick.
I think you had a wood tick.
The virus will not hurt you.
Pencil through my hand.
Looking for the right coat,
laughing like a mountain goat,
spending all my time with a
Pencil through my hand
