The First Song

Oooh, what you'll be little boy
Is doctors lawyers engineers
You see little boy?

Oooh, and you grew little boy
And learned to shed those bright ideas
You see little boy?

Now, there's a building downtown
With coffee breaks and donuts

That they offer as bribes as you rot at your desk
And you smile as if rested but filled with unrest
As the number 15 picks you up every night.
You dream of the songs you don't write