Everybody get your feet off the ground
Wherever on earth your feet are bound,
For beneath you the worms are moving around.
There are those who dream their lives away
Down at the Greasy Spoon Cafe
Where the tea's like mud the spoon stands up in
And the coffee leads to an early coffin.
One day my living room wall
Began to talk to me
And, naturally enough,
A reply was obligatory.
They made a splash from the first
As you might have guessed,
Took off, as if to water,
With their usual sort of zest,
I fell in love with a couch potato
But it didn't have eyes for me.
I tried to talk about Marx and Plato
But it was deaf to philosophy.
These creatures never need to read
To be intimate with literature.
Harmless enough in their way,
Let me be in your B-movie
If only as an extra,
No role's too small for me.
As a bit part player
Together with the proof you are never alone
Fried brains come free with your mobile phone.
Hear the pop of cells in your ear as you speak -
Yes, you're on your way to becoming a freak
Pouting sweetly her rouge-red lips,
Was this the face that lauched a million chips
And cooked the cod for poor young William?