| They took me down the grading station
|
| And they classified me zed
|
| 'Cause of over population
|
| They told me that I would soon be dead
|
| But I slipped out of the force field
|
| And hid beneath the monorail
|
| But the automatic blood hounds
|
| Lord, they’re soon hot along my trail
|
| Now if I had been a scholar
|
| With computer working hard
|
| Then my molecular structure
|
| Would not be on the grader’s card
|
| So, I know that they will get me
|
| Put my index in the brain
|
| Then, the atoms of my body
|
| Will be disposed of, Lordy, down the drain
|
| They took me down the grading station
|
| And they classified me zed
|
| 'Cause of over population
|
| They told me that I would soon be dead |