Another rat trap snaps in perfect unison Another wide-eyed body on the pile There's a way to patch the hole they scurry in I just haven't had time Gather up your whims and things you wish against And Shoot them straight into the sun Burn your pleasure centres out on liquorice Have you never had fun? A prune's not a poor man's plum Wit's not a clever man's sarcasm Your mind and your thoughts aren't one And bats aren't birds There are eight ways to solve every prob-e-lem And maybe one or two are good There are five that look much more appealing than Than the one you should Do is not the same as done Pride's just well-tempered ego Luck's not an oft beat drum And acts aren't words A prune's not a poor man's plum Wit's not a clever man's sarcasm Your mind and your thoughts aren't one And bats aren't birds Your big toe is just a well hid thumb And talent equals highly beamed obsession The earth's but a cosmos crumb Or maybe I'm just a ploughman's son Too ill equipped for philosogy I find that my feelings run When i've maxed out words A prune's not a poor man's plum Wit's not a clever man's sarcasm Your mind and your thoughts aren't one... two three four And bats aren't birds