The imitation wore a colorful habit   Writing in the glow of the TV's static   Taking out the trash to the man   Give the people something they understand      A stickman flashing a fine-line smile   A junk bond trader trying to sell a sucker a style   Rich man in a poor man's clothes   The permanent installment of the daily dose      And you tell people they're too paranoid   But it's only you they must avoid   Fast asleep in a small reality   Boring as a drug you take too regularly      The athelete's laugh, the broken crutch   The first true love failed because you felt too much   Night brought you to no decision   But to execute every day with precision       "Happy Holidays," said sad saviour   The leaving line that I still favor   You gave me rhetoric   No sympathy   The sad song of a symphony   But I don't expect   Anyone to quite connect   My broken heart together      Now I'm a policeman directing traffic   Keeping everything moving, everything static   I'm the hitchhiker you'll recognize passing   On your way to some everlasting      Everlasting waving hand   Everlasting waving hand   Everlasting waving hand   Everlasting waving hand   Everlasting waving, everlasting waving hand