Can it get any better?
Can it get any worse?
Can it get any worse?
I’m a comet trying to stay on
course
on a plunging tether—
I am the universe.
on a plunging tether—
I am the universe.
Well, I’m riding a hearse
with tires made of rubber,
but I think I’ve seen the worst
with tires made of rubber,
but I think I’ve seen the worst
now I’ve become the source,
and object of all trouble—
striding the universe
and object of all trouble—
striding the universe
on my sun-horse,
scrambling hell-for-leather.
So much the worse
scrambling hell-for-leather.
So much the worse
if I scream myself hoarse,
so I can’t sing “Willie’s a Rover.”
I am the universe.
It can’t get any worse.
so I can’t sing “Willie’s a Rover.”
I am the universe.
It can’t get any worse.
