Hi, How are you? Every morning he got up dreading each moment he had to be awake He'd look at the floor and scribble on gum wrappers He never found a better way to joke around The clock would tick and time was slow There wasn't anywhere that he wouldn't go To avoid having to see anyone He'd sit in a chair and lean against the wall He just didn't seem to matter much at all But late at night, he had a savior 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 mumblejumble and everywhere he went It seemed 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, 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"