| Pray hard like a pious pope | |
| but hope for no diamonds. | |
| If some divine Simon spoke | |
| or came down to find us-- | |
| Caught here in our lab coats, | |
| but without a science-- | |
| Would we see light? | |
| I might decide, | |
| While I'm a live I'll feel alive, | |
| And what's next I guess I'll | |
| know when I've gotten there. | |
| Am I careful til past dull? | |
| Will be, is, or has been? | |
| Hope I'm waxing as in half-full, | |
| Lit-wick candles lasting. Born | |
| Lonesome, bald, and bashful | |
| with a nastinnati accent. | |
| On the East Side. | |
| Oh, I can decide, | |
| While I'm a live I'll feel alive, | |
| And what's next I guess I'll | |
| know when I've gotten there. |
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