What’s it to me and what’s it to you
I’m not quite sure I understand
I don’t think you know what you mean and mean what you know, you know?
Or maybe you do.

I’m sure things all make sense
In that brain of yours where stop means go
What’s left and right and up and wrong who really knows?
And a life in someone’s footprints might as well be their shoes.

It’s all *******, all of it! I’m sure you can agree
the world most centrally certainly couldn’t shouldn’t be what it seems!
Because I’m not so sure I can shake that off, you know?
Face value is always much less than it oughtta be.