My street is hopelessly concrete While I'm fit with lead feet You're running circles around me And I'm on the highway to ghosts and retiring early 'Cause I've been so jealous of you now The last time, when you ran for the last time If you are what you eat Eyes, my feet, and ten pounds of lies I realize I'm on the highway to ghosts and retiring early 'Cause I've been bent over admiring your forms and your findings Your hands and your writings And you're everything I wish I was You float like a fairy You're unaware of anything I'm thinking of And it's so square that you're unaware of everything