| Hiding under covers
|
| Pillow over head
|
| He’s not coming out of his safe bed
|
| No matter how close I hold him
|
| Or sing his praise
|
| There’s a big black cloud inside him
|
| And it’s had it’s way
|
| Kevin’s heading for another Prozac Day
|
| Looking for something that’s gonna make the world a nicer place
|
| Doesn’t feel like talking
|
| No desire to eat
|
| He’s too busy boxing with his little joy thief
|
| Though, all the clouds swirl above him like a giant Monet
|
| When he looks up he can’t see them when he thinks in gray
|
| Kevin’s heading for another Prozac Day
|
| Looking for something that’s gonna make the world a nicer place
|
| Kevin’s heading for another Prozac Day
|
| He’s so bone tired and stripped inside
|
| His muse has got away (so far away yeah)
|
| Skin on skin is the medicine
|
| He’ll just have to take now
|
| Kevin’s heading for another Prozac Day
|
| Looking for something that’s gonna make the world a nicer place, yeah
|
| Kevin’s heading for another Prozac Day
|
| Looking for something that’s gonna make the world a nicer, smoother, kinder,
|
| lovelier
|
| Lighter, oh-so-happy-wonderful place
|
| Yeah, he’s looking for a Prozac Day |