What's the Who cares? People everywhere, Running decapitated chickens in the rain. Never the poultry, I'd rather stay at home I hope that my old lady's feeling a lazy Jane No one really I'm funny, Not the way she does She is stranger more fiction, definition. Why don't we go take a and why don't we take your car? Mine is out of gas and nearly broken down. Lighter flame and cheap And wafting in the air Steal a and listen to the sound of falling rain Never mind diet, I'd rather our guts Making funny faces on the We run, we run, we run And we're inside of this place The walls are the fun 'Cause anarchy in its space Huddled in the pilot's seat our are filled with Thimbledrome. We check the dash and turn the on. Never the man in orange; We our own way home. We crush him flat and into the sky. There's a baby on its way because of we do so much, Shooting a comet from the other end of space. Someday (I know which one) A pair of feet will come Creeping like a monkey with a little face And I will spank monkey, spank that monkey, that monkey if it gets out of line. And I will spank that monkey, spank monkey, And he'll me someday when I'm seventy-nine. We run, we run, we run And we're happy of this place. The are half the fun 'Cause anarchy in its space. me to extend to you a special invitation to Watch the wrinkles form upon my face as I old. Christmastime and Halloween and all the that lie between in hand we'll watch as all the years unfold.