JENNIFER GRASSMAN lyrics :
"The Mad Mad March Hare Acoustic Exposition"
Send "The Mad Mad March Hare Acoustic Exposition" Ringtone to your Cell 
Oh come one and come all and listen to my story
The lady we consider Truth has become quite a whore, she
Is true to the baker and likewise to the candlestick maker
And all the while the lies beguile ‘till darkness overtakes her.
Well I know and you know, and he knows, and she knows
That Truth has come down with a cold, so we best send her flowers
The doctor, the doctor, the red, white, and blue doctor
Declared her dead at the scene which quite thoroughly shocked her.
The Mad, Mad March Hare Acoustic Exposition
A wild construction of creative thought
Will be played by the duo in question.
And I for one don’t think that you’ll want to eschew this
Cuz once the notes go hippety-hop they’ll never be played again
Quite the same way.
A tisket, and tasket a green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my love and on the way I burned it
I burned it, I burned it, and on the way I burned it
It never made it to the post, cuz on the way I burned it.
Like dust in the wind or like beetles who’ve been pinned
We go away and don’t come back, O God, O God I’m mortal
It is true, it’s not true, how do you know the sky’s blue?
There’s not a Heaven, not a Hell, and not a tune to dance to.
Send "The Mad Mad March Hare Acoustic Exposition" Ringtone to your Cell
The lady we consider Truth has become quite a whore, she
Is true to the baker and likewise to the candlestick maker
And all the while the lies beguile ‘till darkness overtakes her.
Well I know and you know, and he knows, and she knows
That Truth has come down with a cold, so we best send her flowers
The doctor, the doctor, the red, white, and blue doctor
Declared her dead at the scene which quite thoroughly shocked her.
The Mad, Mad March Hare Acoustic Exposition
A wild construction of creative thought
Will be played by the duo in question.
And I for one don’t think that you’ll want to eschew this
Cuz once the notes go hippety-hop they’ll never be played again
Quite the same way.
A tisket, and tasket a green and yellow basket
I wrote a letter to my love and on the way I burned it
I burned it, I burned it, and on the way I burned it
It never made it to the post, cuz on the way I burned it.
Like dust in the wind or like beetles who’ve been pinned
We go away and don’t come back, O God, O God I’m mortal
It is true, it’s not true, how do you know the sky’s blue?
There’s not a Heaven, not a Hell, and not a tune to dance to.
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