| The walls are filled in here with glass | |
| My eyes are stolen with a glance | |
| And the cheap persuasion that has emptied | |
| It's perfume and left us weary | |
| Has been overlooked as art | |
| I'm handed cups of tepid gleam | |
| From smiles colorless and careful | |
| My face is frozen as the winner takes his prize | |
| And all eyes turn to stare | |
| The lonelier the better | |
| And all my friends are there | |
| The click clicking of the floss | |
| A dabble here and there | |
| Why I'm here and why they're there? | |
| I don't know why | |
| The shaker's breaking up the peace | |
| But I heard him stare, I heard him stare | |
| The lonelier the better | |
| And all my friends are there, are they all there? |
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