hi, how are you?      Every morning he got up    Dreading each moment he had to be awake   He'd look at the floor, scribble on gum wrappers   He never found a better way to joke around      The clock would tick and time would slow   There wasn't anywhere he wouldn't go    To avoid having to see anyone   He'd sit in a chair and lean against a wall   But that didnt seem to matter much at all      But late at night he had a saviour   In his sleep, in his dreams   She came to him and she said   "poor you, poor you   No one understands you   Poor you, poor you"      And every word that everyone would say   Got mumbled up in his head   Like mumble-jumble and everywhere he went   It seemed like everyone was saying to him,   "Blah blah blah"      But late at night, he had a mistress   In his dreams, in his sleep   And she would say "poor you, poor you"   No one understands you   poor you"      This story, though, not well told   Is not that old   It's not that funny, it's not that great   But I know it to be true      Because late at night, I have an angel   In my dreams, in my sleep   And as she runs her fingers through my hair   As I lay on her lap   And she says, "poor you, poor you   No one understands you, poor you   poor you"