Little twinkling stars And the depth of the clouds With the name of your favorite bar At least it's good then to know where you are When mostly you're really not sure How all of these faces and places really occur Just a page left to read Your words are rich but they somehow Seem weightless to me Just with your simplest views I'll agree Like everything has to end It's just the tie I'm doubting My most inconvenient friend So soon I'll put you to sleep You'll dream of natural disasters and electric sheep But the hills of our town, they are steep And me I am easy to please Just a couch and some pamphlets With headers that I made up with ease A few words from our ten nominees O'er the rights of the new bourgeoisie Maybe the wind and the trees Will finally give us some peace And then the next afternoon I'll share with you the sweet taste Of laboriously licking my wounds And though I know you're already immune To every decision I'll make Both the good ones and the ones That'll turn out to be mistakes.