You can’t just live in summer days; in quiet breeze and happy haze; we’re gliding down the night-time ways; I hope you know it’s just a phase; I feel like it’s all slipped away; the feigning smiles; the disarray; we’re working through the black; the grey; empty bottles; stale ashtrays; but when you turn to me and say; ‘please help me not to feel this way’; I’ll say, my dear, you’re just the prey; the green will feed off your dismay; I’ll say that we have hell to pay 'cause Eli Lilly made things this way.