Moving men yawn,
kids drop their scooters on the lawn
and run in for chocolate milk.
Their friends are gonna move on,
their bones are gonna get strong.
Ah, what do they know..
Of all the long days spent at school,
the hours logged in at the pool,
what have they learned?
They’re dreaming of the world beyond,
feel like big fish in little ponds,
Growing up in the suburbs,
soccer ball in locker,
physically ashamed posture.
You live in fear of the rejected offer,
Come take a look at this ring, just for a minute.
You can see the future in it.
But it only stays dark green,
which it has since the Pleistocene.
I know your dream was to destroy the set
of Top of The Pops, a teen triceratops.
And you’ll take Chemistry in the Fall
if your back’s against the wall,
if Clarissa explains it all.
You didn’t have the time to dream,
but on the debate team
you sure could create a scene.
On Memorial Day,
you bought a set of drums to play
with the help of Mel Bay.
The next day you see your crush
coming toward you in the hall
like an asteroid trying to end it all.
Now strong men are packing up your stuff.
They pack it up tight in a box like a harlequin.
You won’t see that old junk anymore.
It’s only interesting to kids, like a dinosaur.
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