I just can’t handle it anymore
This thin life in between vice and blight
That smell of acrid dust in my nostrils
The traffic stealing time slowly, inexorably
Many see straw strewn about the farm where they live
I’m no hay fever guy, I get the job done
But at what cost? Sickening to think about
Many wonder in time why why why
But is that the right question?
I’m indignant, sure, but helping hands and whatnot
From me to you
Mrs. Radioactive Wasteland, feed me your pig stomach
I’ve the gut of a lion, and the bones tattered in my bedroom
Let me know that yes, I have been to the plains
Doubt lust, sonder and disgust at the sight of the populace walking down my streets
Country lane, grab me by the nose and tug out the mucous
I’m inhibited, roll roll rolling downhill perpetually
Isn’t it fun? I’ve never been so happy in my life
The snowball will collide at the bottom of the infinite hill we find ourselves on
It just takes forever to get there
Don’t you know?
