The Universe expects
A tad higher than you think
You always strive for higher
In the life of so say He
That's just how it is
When you strive for
Perfection of degree
You can bang your drum
And wag your tale
But on the path of life
Your ass fails
So go bang your witches
Or burn in your beds
Coz you are the epitome
Of the life of the dead
The same old song and dance
Forever been fed
Off with yee now child
It's past your time for bed
