He turned his life every which way
To know if it made any sense
He asked tons of thrilled people for their opinion
Thrilled to share their view on life
He crossed the fumes of whirling dervishes
Of hash smokers, and he said
Life isn't worth a thing, a thing
But me, when I hold, hold
There in my two dazzled hands
The two pretty little breasts of my girl
There I say nothing, nothing, nothing
He saw the space that passes
Between the jet set, the pomp, the palaces
And then the cleaning crew
Others hope in steeples, in monasteries
To see the old laid-back sergeant but it's only Richard Gere
He slipped in like an insect onto a website
To see sect people and he said
Life isn't worth a thing, a thing
But me, when I hold, hold
There in my two dazzled hands
The two pretty little breasts of my girl
There I say nothing, nothing, nothing
How life is detergent
And how it cleans people
He played forbidden games for sleeping friends, nostalgia
Life isn't worth a thing, a thing
But me, when I hold, hold
There in my two dazzled hands
The two pretty little breasts of my girl
There I say nothing, nothing, nothing