Seems like the ants love me
why they do?
these days of late spring make 'em
pretty much around
close their eyes
shake their little antennas
and sense my past and present
down a winding road
summer hailed and all the ants
leerin by the lunch-box
weíre gettin dry
and their amount was growin fast
widely over their score
weíre getting dry
In times of dense debris
dark and blue
we hang on †short strings †progress

gets all around
open your eyes
it's no work of nature
and life is taken for granted
on this winding road
all the features have been set off
every effort †is †just outta place
what's wrong
could be just right
millions people showing †same face
every effort is just outta place
what's wrong
could be just right