Bliss

I think that tomorrow the world's gonna end
And half the population won't hear because they've got their earphones in
And they'll look around because they hear a faint rumb-a-ling
But they won't take their earphones out because they like a little tumb-a-ling
In their minds, a little figuring
To guide
Their thoughts like ticker tape
On a reel.
They like to feel a little helpless, maybe
Believe me when I say this, baby
That of the half that aren't blindly wondering
At least a quarter of them will be blundering
To save their money
And maybe an eigth will be in the bathroom
And not want to run out to save themselves
because of their personal modesty
They'll run their mind over the honesty
Of their life And spend
Their last few seconds reveiwing start to end
All the things that have already happened.
I think that tomorrow the world's gonna end