Busy at home I was happy for a while But the joke is over Looking down At the carefully laid out infamy Take a scythe, take a scythe To the rotting core Of man-vegetation Now I sigh At the cool cool attitude to ignorance
[Chorus] The look in your eyes When you gave this to me Just put me on my guard In this elegant chaos I stand to one side
Shouting, 'Ha!' Was I forced into this? Or was it given to me? It's a nice idea - As a gift Or as something to try for a while 70 years? It's neither one thing nor the other My big fear Is to dig it at last And have it taken away
[Chorus]
It's not a problem of secrecy I take it in my stride Did I learn to breathe to be killed like this? Faces to the glass I see them televise my death Oh, and here comes the part Where I break down and cry
People I see Just remind me of mooing Like a cow on the grass And that's not to say That there's anything wrong With being a cow anyway But people are people With the added advantage Of the spoken word We're getting on fine But I feel more of a man When I get with the herd