[Verse 1]

Put your hands together
Put your hands together
It's time to get together
It's time to get on the winning side
Get your shit together
Get your shit together
Put your hands together
Or put your hands behind your back

[Chorus]

I know I belong
Sick and wrong, what does that make you?
I know I belong
Sick and wrong, what does that make you?

[Verse 2]

Put your hands together
Put your hands together
It's time to get together
It's time to get on the winning side

I know that I'm sick, my demise will be no surprise
I realize that the exclamations in my deviation
Has a medical dimension
([?] detention)
I was wrong, I knew it all along
I confess that I transgress
I employ a lawyer to cause my plight in a better light
To gain a deposition
Of my condition: Sick & wrong

[Chorus]

I know I belong
Sick and wrong, what does that make you?
I know I belong
Sick and wrong, what does that make you?
I know I belong (I know I'm wrong!)
I'm sick and wrong, what does that make (you?) (I'm sick, what does that make you?!)
I don't know why I've done wrong but (I know I [?])
I know I belong
Sick and wrong, what does that make you? (I'm sick! What does that make you?!)