Slipping from fingers the guitar that sings:
Blanannananananaaah.
I am slipping and should I too sing:
Blanannananananaaah?

It might pay cheaply, but I’m sure I’ll live happily.
But, oh, right,
I won’t be an old man, or an old woman,
But something more fucked up.

The rain falls, down on this street.
Bigger worries than that will start raining on me so
I toss my umbrella, to sharpen my skills,
And smile at the rain as I catch myself a cold.

Slipping the guitar sings blanananananananaaah.
I am slipping too with blanananananananananananananananaaaaah!
If I can sing it, I’m sure I’ll climb effortlessly up the stairs.
Not as an old man, or an old woman,
But as more…

The next morning, I awoke.
If it’s the same as yesterday, it’ll be boring as hell.
To grasp something more
Than a spell or illusion
I pedal on my bicycle.

The rain falls, down on this street.
Bigger worries than that will start raining on me so,
I toss my umbrella, to sharpen my skills,
And smile at the rain as I catch myself a cold.

Blast off, nanananana.
Blast off, nanananana.
I will blast off with a ‘nanananana’.
Oh yes, it’ll be crazy.