SpongeBob & Patrick Confront the Psychic Wall of Energy

Patrick, you see, I'm growing a mustache

And though I know I must ask you

Does it really make me look like a man?

SpongeBob, being a man is just a tough job

I hope you're picked to be the best sponge-boss they've had

Working like a dog at the Krusty Krab

Now wait a minute

I think we hit a wall

I think we hit a psychic wall

Maybe we're just young

And we won't know 'til we're old

Too young to free ourselves

From this lonely fish bowl

Some kind of wall

Some kind of psychic wall

Some kind of wall

Some kind of psychic wall

We can get about

Come on, let's find a way to be happy

Not like Plankton, he will never be satisfied

Always complaining about his life

To his computer wife

You think he would've found by now

To be sought as a king

We don't need a crown