Life in a narrow wooden basket

In a narrow wooden basket that drifts along the river stream A duckling ruffles its muddled pieces of hair Playing alone, less of scare or thrill; What would be more of lonely, when it finds in life no dream? Living in the 24th storey, where you need lift to fly up and down Once a while, catch a quick gleam of the city night beam Once a while, light a cigarette and pick a girl to bed Yet, all the while, you just want to be off yourself and lose the crown Then, you got yourself sitting in a bar alone Piano rhymes should’ve flushed away all rigid pain The jazzy singer swings the mood and pumps your blood You gotta take the deal, to challenge yourself Hit the lady singer, the sassy fox in red, Prove your manhood; ride your motorbike Be a macho, macho, macho, MACHO! Hate your mama, kill your papa Be who you are, be a man… Be a man, be a man… BE a Man… A Man Aman Amæn Amæn Amen . . . Is that it? Is that it? All seems rubbish at a time. “Ladies?” call them once, “Ladies?” call them twice “Oh.. ladies?” I land on the land of desperation Land of impotent vision and futile ambition When a man has no bike, He has loathed his mom and dad, He has fucked all the girls in red, Blue, yellow.. (didn’t remember a name) What shall be of him? what shall be of me? Shall I be less than a man? Less than an average? Less than a strife? A struggler? Less than anything? Oh, I am.. I am.. IamLess Less than nothing. Yes, less than nothing (sobbing) … When you find an empty bucket lying beside a gigantic tree Waiting for the dew drops till they fill the bucket full That’s my life; that was my life supposed to be Oh, no, that’s not my life turned out to be.