Oh, the blankness of a table lamp And the dull books on the shelf Make you angry and you Wish something would change Before this world spins into an end What's the difference between a whiteness of A ceiling and a whiteness of a grave?
I will never dye my hair red And light a cigarette, You, you, human
The chorus will say you'll be alright, doll, you've got talent everybody in this city wants it, but sadly very few have got so they make up for it, with good manners. Wit and charm.