Feeling like a wise man Holding an ankh to the light Then I get to thinking I'll find cities in sand And I take another beating While I'm losing my sight And going out of my mind Oh, my myopia
Grass their friends up, not their days up, never Comb their hair and moan about the weather Can I hope that I'm allowed a breather? Oh, my myopia
Tuck your bib in, sit down to your platter Swallowing the world is now your oyster But it tastes more or less like cum Seedy utopia
In a month of Sundays someday you'll be my bride No longer the best man I once was in your eyes You administer the beatings and I'm losing my sight Yeah, going out of my mind Oh, my myopia
Had some time to consider the problem Gym'll fix it, gymnasium ad nauseum They're in my face and what a good sport I've been Oh, my myopia
Feeling like a wise man Holding an ankh to the light Then I get to thinking I'll find cities in sand I don't wanna be defeated So I'm turning my back to this latest attack Oh, my myopia...
...is to blame Warts and shame There's nothing else to blame for this
So close your eyes and talk about the weather Close your minds to whispers from the ether I will face the chaos with a grin I will take it on the chin