Feeling New York   Brush through my hair   We fall for East Village   But we're insincere.   Aren't we. Aren’t we.      For we find no meaning   In this post-modern scene   They thought times were a changing   But now that's some   Hippie dream. Hippie dream.      And I'm watching Orion reach out from the shore   I hate his still hourglass for shifting   After I'm gone.   'Cause time sticks to me, leaves me dead on the floor.   My grave set among many,   A boy lost in the belly of the world.      Did it ever seem strange   When we would say, hey,   Life ain't worth living.   'Cause we know that   Death leads to zeros   Or infinities   And that's scary   Simple but scary, simple but scary   Ain't that contrary,   Then life is the party.   It is.      Everyone knows   These fake hipsters know   It's like St. George is here   But their dragons just want to keep sleeping.   Saw Ginsberg beset in the corner market   We can't face our death so we   can't mine our lives of meaning.      And I'm watching Orion reach out from the shore   I hate his still hourglass for shifting   After I'm gone.   'Cause time sticks to me, leaves me dead on the floor.   My grave set among many,   A boy lost in the belly of the world.      Does it ever seem strange   That we keep laughing and it never gets boring   Keep on the laughing, the crying, the screaming   And it never gets boring   When we're stuck in the feeling,   A bit all-consuming,   And in that there's meaning   There's all the meaning   There's all my meaning      For I am the rapture, I am the reaper, I am the ether,   And I'm the seer. For I am the ether, I am the ether,   And there is no time.      Feeling New York   Brush through my hair   We fall for East Village   But we're insincere.   Aren't we. Aren't we.