Little Nemo

With these two legs I can fly
 Crooked lines in a concrete sky
 As I stroll the dirt under my soles
 Rises up as I pass by
 I forget about distance
 I forget about time
 The path is all that I know
 Some people like they drive
 But all they do is arrive
 I don't convey myself so
 The dead don't walk
 And the dead don't work
 And the dead they don't complain
 The nicest things are said about them
 And they don't feel any pain
 They have no opinions
 They have no advice
 They got so little to give
 And it's a sad fact
 How badly they interact
 That's not how I want to live
 What about your birthright
 What about your name
 What good are they to you now
 They've taken your gift
 And what have they left you with
 It seems so empty somehow
 It's so cold to be using gold
 As a measure of a man
 Fools may smile
 At the size of their pile
 Well it might as well be sand
 The bullion you stash
 The life you convert to cash
 It seems insipid somehow
 You save all your time
 Another nickel another dime
 What good are they to you now
 Dream another flying dream
 Dream another dream of flight
 Open up your arms and sail
 Sail into the starry night
 But I can't see you
 You've wasted your energy
 On something that isn't real
 The ringing will last
 But the bells have all been re-cast
 Is that the way that you feel
 With these two legs
 I can fly crooked lines in a concrete sky
 As I stroll the dirt under my soul
 Rises up as I pass by...