Hair On The Arms And Legs

See him digging, see him weeding
Every single day of the year
Coffee at eleven, four-thirty tea
His security is built on routine

But inside his mind there's a lot going on
Planning the world but it just don't do no good
I say, what's the use?

Population, starvation
His mind keeps working hard
Ending wars, changing laws
But all of them locked away

I say, what's the use?
Population, starvation
His mind keeps working hard
Ending wars, changing laws
But all of them locked away

In cessation, repetition
Funeral for an age of decay
Meditation, deep frustration
Caused our hairy friend to die

Here lies a man who failed to escape
Filled his small head with the worries that plague the world
I say, what's the use?