What is it that makes me just a little bit queasy? There's a breeze that makes my breathing not so easy. I've had my lungs checked out with X-rays. I've smelled the hospital hallways.

Someday I'll have a disappearing hairline. Someday I'll wear pyjamas in the daytime.

Times when the day is like a play by Sartre, when it seems a bookburning's in perfect order. I gave the doctor my description. I've tried to stick to my prescriptions.

Someday I'll have a disappearing hairline. Someday I'll wear pyjamas in the daytime.

Woo oo-o hoo ooooooooo, afternoons will be measured out, measured out, measured with coffeespoons and T. S. Elliot.

Maybe if I could do a play-by-playback, I could change the test results that I will get back. I've watched the summer evenings pass by. I've heard the rattle in my bronchi.

Someday I'll have a disappearing hairline. Someday I'll wear pyjamas in the daytime.

Woo oo-o hoo oooooooooo, afternoons will be measured out, measured out, measured with coffeespoons and T. S. Elliot.

Afternoons will be measured out, measured out, measured with coffeespoons and T. S. Elliot.