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Some Cavern
This place is full of downers
Sad, smelly, flimsy frowners.
Tell me something, and tell it true,
Is it not as hard for me, as it is for you?
Depression, compression
Man it stings!
It crumbles, it dries,
And other things.
How are you and we to be all downers?
Man, wasting all these hours.
Ugh
Can't we stop and smell the flowers?
Shut our mouths or reach from our ugly bowers?
I'm thinking maybe I should leave this place,
And this grey, and lost, and raggedy race.
Find some other place, to replace.
Then who would be a nutcase?
