| Hey man, I know you can write
|
| But you’re just wasting paper now
|
| You can stay up all night and you’d never see
|
| Your soul on paper anyhow
|
| You don’t want to die alone
|
| Thirty-three and living with your mother
|
| C’mon get outside 'cause it’s outside and you’re in
|
| 'Cause you ain’t movin' in on me, friend
|
| Move here and I’ll move there
|
| And we’ll compare the coast lines
|
| Take notes carefully
|
| Being jaded doesn’t help us
|
| 'Cause we need to find if everybody dies alone
|
| And everybody here now has a mother?
|
| 'Cause I have seen some very strange types
|
| But they all now seem very friendly
|
| And now you’ve been caught up in thick
|
| That you forget which you need
|
| Going on and on about the sad condition of the lawn
|
| But lazy can’t get to his feet
|
| And with your mind made up
|
| Any day could be your book
|
| Hey man, I know you’re alright
|
| We’ll get together later
|
| We’ll hang here and hang some there
|
| Collaborate on books about exploring nature
|
| How not to die alone
|
| Clever letter writing to amuse our mothers
|
| 'Cause there is outside and then here is outside |