The quiet one, the one named 
Steven Listens to the voice of reason 
They miss him at the kitchen 
Where he’s given daily bread 
Another one, the one named 
Harry Vegetable or visionary 
Said he had a dream with 
Steven Flying overhead 
He watched him until he lost him in the sun 
He must be having some kind of fun 
A thousand miles, a world away 
A woman starts another day 
She drinks her mud and draws a tub 
And waits for it to fill 
A box arrives with nothing in it 
Setting off her head a spin 
It goes round and round and round 
Until it all begins to spill 
Before she knows another day is done 
She must be having some kind of fun 
And she says, “
Don’t pray for me.”