| Shocked? | 
| Dismayed? | 
| Or maybe just a little upset | 
| Well, no, this isn’t pretty | 
| And yes, my hair was longer then | 
| It’s what happens when your choices | 
| Are narrowed to fashion or violence | 
| Adjustments, you make adjustments | 
| There’s nothing left wrong with me That money can’t cure | 
| But I don’t want to be somebody else’s | 
| Learning experience | 
| Some rich kid’s way to spend his allowance | 
| I want magic in my real world | 
| Some modern voodoo to make it work | 
| Voodoo to make it work | 
| I remembered what you sputtered | 
| Chewing your stupid fuel | 
| You said, you said, The amplification of the eternal | 
| Present is the technology of desire. | 
| Shoo! | 
| I thought you were already corroded… | 
| I said, You don’t know me, I’ll be the one | 
| Pulling that perfect crime, flushing | 
| This place down that huge hole | 
| When I quit cigarettes. | 
| But, it was just more gas | 
| We were all wearing falsies | 
| …weren't we? | 
| So I’ll stop being clever | 
| and just say it straight | 
| I guess I set impossible goals | 
| and I don’t know when to quit | 
| Is that it? | 
| Is that it? | 
| Is that it? | 
| Is that it? | 
| Found a cure for daylight yet? | 
| Tom Tomorrow and Sermonette | 
| Found a cure for gravity yet? | 
| Yes, I’m addicted to roofs and jets | 
| Found a cure for hunger yet? | 
| Black coffee, cigarettes | 
| Found a cure for desire yet? | 
| I don’t wanna talk about that, | 
| I don’t wanna talk about that | 
| I don’t wanna talk about that | 
| Why do you keep asking me? | 
| My goals? | 
| My goals are to find a cure for irony | 
| and make a fool out of God. |