if i had a tail to chase around i would go for days and days i would never cease to run amok until i got stuck in phrase if i found a finger in a can i would drink it anyway sprout a hundred nails and twenty hands scratch it off and fly away its such a waste its such a waste its such a waste and i cant make up for this stammer oh i stumble through the words tethering about my mind if i could find a way out of the woods right into that frying pan crack your eyes open in a stew make it sweeter than a pill pour a little sugar in the wound mix it all up once again its such a waste its such a waste its such a waste and i cant make up for this its such a waste oh its such a waste oh its such a waste and i cant make up for this and i cant make up for this and i cant make up for this