| Song | Sad Professor |
| Artist | R.E.M. |
| Album | Up |
| 作词 : Buck, Mills, Stipe | |
| if we're talking about love | |
| then I have to tell you | |
| dear readers I'm not sure where I'm headed. | |
| I've gotten lost before. | |
| I've woke up stone drunk | |
| face down in the floor. | |
| late afternoon the house is hot. | |
| I started I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a bore. | |
| everyone hates a drunk. | |
| this may be a lit invention | |
| professors muddled in their intent | |
| to try to rope in followers | |
| to float their malcontent. | |
| as for this reader, | |
| I'm already spent. | |
| late afternoon, the house is hot. | |
| I started, I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a sad professor. | |
| I hate where I wound up. | |
| dear readers, my apologies. | |
| I'm drifting in and out of sleep. | |
| long silence presents the tragedies | |
| of love. note the age. get afraid. | |
| the surface hazy with attendant thoughts. | |
| a lazy eye metaphor on the rocks. | |
| late afternoon, the house is hot. | |
| I started, I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a bore. | |
| everyone hates a drunk. | |
| everyone hates a sad professor. | |
| I hate where I wound up. | |
| I hate where I wound up. |
| zuò cí : Buck, Mills, Stipe | |
| if we' re talking about love | |
| then I have to tell you | |
| dear readers I' m not sure where I' m headed. | |
| I' ve gotten lost before. | |
| I' ve woke up stone drunk | |
| face down in the floor. | |
| late afternoon the house is hot. | |
| I started I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a bore. | |
| everyone hates a drunk. | |
| this may be a lit invention | |
| professors muddled in their intent | |
| to try to rope in followers | |
| to float their malcontent. | |
| as for this reader, | |
| I' m already spent. | |
| late afternoon, the house is hot. | |
| I started, I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a sad professor. | |
| I hate where I wound up. | |
| dear readers, my apologies. | |
| I' m drifting in and out of sleep. | |
| long silence presents the tragedies | |
| of love. note the age. get afraid. | |
| the surface hazy with attendant thoughts. | |
| a lazy eye metaphor on the rocks. | |
| late afternoon, the house is hot. | |
| I started, I jumped up. | |
| everyone hates a bore. | |
| everyone hates a drunk. | |
| everyone hates a sad professor. | |
| I hate where I wound up. | |
| I hate where I wound up. |