I pity inanimate objects Because they can't move From specks of dust to paperweights Or a pound note sealed in resin Plastic Santas in perpetual underwater snowstorms Sculptures that appear to be moving but aren't I feel sorry for them all What are they thinking when they arrive at a place? Do they sigh with disappointment? And when they leave, do they have regrets? Is a sofa as happy in one corner as it is in another? And how does the room feel about it? I pity inanimate objects I pity inanimate objects I pity inanimate objects I pity them all Physics isn't fair Is a tree as a rocking horse an ambition fulfilled? And is the sawdust jealous? I worry about these things Peppercorns don't move Until they contaminate the ice-cream Three weeks later Is the gold in Fort Knox happy gold? I care about these things Some things are better left alone Grains of sand prefer their own company But magnets are two-faced No choice for sugar But what choice could there be, but to drown in coffee or to drown in tea? The frustrations of being inanimate Maybe it's better that way The fewer the moving parts The less there is to go wrong I wonder about these things I pity inanimate objects I pity inanimate objects I pity inanimate objects I pity them all.