There once was a boy
He was smart as a crow
Whose future was bright
Like the sun on the snow
But when he went to bed
He dreamt a dream
That filled him
All full of fright
He knew
One day
He'd become
What he saw
Now he's dead (Like the yeast in cooked bread)
Now he's dead (And from his heart he bled)
Now he's dead (And look who's here instead)
Just a wannabe man
With a bag of ground coffee
From the ashes comes a lesser being who'll survive
On caffeine and of course complaining about the times
Self-sufficient non-existent but he'll never die
As long as the grounds that he came from stay right by his side
Put it in a french press (With hot water and you'll get)
A feeling of duress (It's a result of success)
He pours himself a cup (But he'll never drink the rest)
Cuz' at the bottom of the mug
There will always be
Just a little bit
Of that ground coffee
With thimbles on his fingers he pops painkillers with a sigh
And he washes himself off with lye in order to saponify
One with nothing none with something
It's yours to decide
And I don't know just where he came from
But you better hide
If you let him get to you
You'll end up by his side
He whispered something to me
And my spirit it died
He said this happens to us all
But he wouldn't tell me why
Why
Oh
Why must all this fun come to an end