I'm stuck in this world

which is turning on itself,

I'm like a plastic elf upon a shelf

I wake up to this day

wandering what it won't feel like

not to wake up anymore, never take another hike

I hear Hariprasad Chaurasia soothing all hell

with his cobra flute,

no more nothing to dispute

I can't console myself,

I'm not very good at that;

maybe I can console the cat?