Asked to choose fame and fortune
or the world's salvation
well nobody believe's that's possible
it's a bad situation
and the whole ball of wax is just fantasy time
my usual grandiose dreams
I've got my little row to hoe
while I pick over my hopeless schemes
how many years how many years gone past
since I thought I saw I though I saw the wave
and just when I decide to give it all away
I look around and can't find one thing to save
the world doesn't want it, people don't want it
and I don't have it so really what the hell?
It's a strange world coming and I'm in it up to here
just another dupe with no principles to sell
what
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