different folks lead different lives
some live in palaces, some live in hives
some live in mansions, some in hovels
some in holes that they dig with wooden shovels
some only breathe a few minutes, and then die
others live a hundred years, and that's no lie
some ride through the city on the shoulders of the mob
others walk the lonely highway, can't even find a job
some men are treated by women real nice
they crawl all over them like bedbugs or lice
other fellows can't even get kissed
and never know what they have missed
some women find men handsome and faithful
rich, well groomed and properly grateful
other poor girls are enslaved by mad beasts
who will never let go until they are deceased
some folks never learn to read
from the wisdom of philosophers they are freed
some folks never go to a museum
there are some pretty pictures there, but they don’t see’em
the world is a deck with a trillion cards
that you can’t figure out though you try so hard
the chips will fall whether or not you may
i don’t have anything more to say
last night i had a strange dream, a dream so strange i can hardly begin to describe it.
i was walking down a street and then over a bridge and a chap i knew in school passed me by without so much as a glance, and i thought, good heavens, am i going mad - does nobody recognize me, do i no longer exist - and i kept walking across the bridge which seemed to have no end, and i thought, i wish i had had a dog when i as a boy, and then do you know, the strangest thing happened, a big white dog came bounding toward me, the friendliest fellow you ever saw, and i thought, at last, at last i have a true friend, and then i woke up -
and i realized i was out of cigarettes. and the tobacconist would not open for another two hours at least.
how i wished i could go back to sleep and meet my friend the white dog again.
but it was no use. once awake, i can never get back to sleep.