Dejected and doleful I'm alive I'm a man, as you Carry me in your cradle
pour me out with your ladle into chicken noodle soup
Another time around and we've both had enough  
But you dangle me more and I'm small
And although I Don't know what it means at all
it truly is all all
And it truly is mine
it's what I want it's and its what I need
So I do guess This is life
And survive
I know today and that's ok, new today
Hanging on with a trying grip
Little baby boy In his tiny careless nest
Nothing less
the rest Of your little baby boys And your little business men and your combed haired combed mind
In the soup of consumer culpability
and commercial tranquility
And I cannot wake from this happy soothing nightmare of more money and more mine more mine
But alas I awake and I do arise into peripheral plausibility of the nightmare that's mine the nightmare that's mine