My tumbling ocean of dismay! A life jacket is putting up 
a fight. By the bathroom you wish to say, 'It's not an 
ocean at all.' One must ask what is it then? 'A small 
puddle in a clawfoot tub.' Yes, for certain, but look 
again. I grasp breathless for the wall. And you're just 
standing there in the slippers your grandma sewed. It's 
like you don't even seem to care. You've no emotion at 
all. I've put my seatbelt on, secured, my hope's all 
gone. Oh no, there is no sense in waiting with all my 
watch springs broken  and you can save your joke about 
the timely death of some far-right senator who failed to 
put his seatbelt on. But this song's not about politics, 
just the guy in the hall who's blowing kisses at you and 
then hurling bricks toward my end of the hall. Yeah, but 
isn't that always the way? The cards are dealt without 
any reason. Hey, at least I've got rhymes today, though 
they're predictable, all. I've put my seatbelt on. (Do 
ron, a do ron ron.) Oh no, there is no sense in waiting 
just so I can reek of smoke  and you can save your joke 
about the misadventures of some equally shy and equally 
young fool who, despite his deathwish, still put his 
seatbelt on.