At least I can advance Through peacetime in a trance Bad days too have no restrictions on the mood Just the degree of effort Usage of the brain Process phantom pain Eye strain too, the strength of which should be profuse And add to the collective hurt ♪ So what practical matters must I settle first? What practical matters must be put down? Which ones to shoot with tranquilizers, leave them falling on the ground And made into a bearskin rug? But get this The bearskin is a list And I'm too distracted to go explaining this So I'll just canon stamp it ♪ I want to see you at night Another day, another time I can't stand in this lit hallway anymore I want to be liked And despite A past of bad ideas and advice I sit still and wonder why I ever tried To think that you were any different