Intro.: What is it that makes me just a little bit queasy There's a breeze that makes my breathing not so easy I've had my lungs checked out with X rays I've smelled the hospital hallways Someday I'll have a disappearing hair line Someday I'll wear pajamas in the day time Times when the day is like a play by Sartre When it seems a book burning's in perfect order I gave the doctor my description I've tried to stick to my presciptions {chorus} Maybe if I could do a play by playback I could change the test results that I will get back I've watched the summer evenings pass by I've heard the rattle in my bronchi {chorus} Oh .... oh .... oh After noons will be measured out, measured out, and measured with coffe spoons, and T.S. Eliot