What do you want from life?
To kidnap an heiress
or threaten her with a knife?
What do you want from life?
To get cable TV
and watch it every night?
There you sit,
a lump in your chair.
Where do you sleep
and what do you wear
when you’re sleeping?
What do you want from life?
An Indian guru
to show you the inner light.
What do you want from life?
A meaningless love affair
with a girl that you met tonight?
How can you tell when you’re doin’ alright?
Does your bank account swell
while you’re dreaming at night?
How do know when you’re really in love?
Do violins play when you’re touching the one
that you’re loving?
What do you want from life?
Someone to love,
and somebody you can trust.
What do you want from life?
To try and be happy
while you do the nasty things
you must.
What do you want from life?
Well, you can’t have that, but if you’re an American citizen you are entitled to:
a heated kidney shaped pool,
a microwave oven–don’t watch the food cook,
a Dyna-Gym–I’ll personally demonstrate it in the privacy of your own home,
a kingsize Titanic unsinkable Molly Brown waterbed with polybendum,
a foolproof plan and an airtight alibi,
real simulated Indian jewelry,
a Gucci shoetree,
a year’s supply of antibiotics,
a personally autographed picture of Randy Mantooth
and Bob Dylan’s new unlisted phone number,
a beautifully restored 3rd Reich swizzle stick,
Rosemary’s baby,
a dream date in kneepads with Paul Williams,
a new Matador,
a new mastadon,
a Maverick,
a Mustang,
a Montego,
a Merc Montclair,
a Mark IV,
a meteor,
a Mercedes,
an MG,
or a Malibu,
a Mort Moriarty,
a Maserati,
a Mac truck,
a Mazda,
a new Monza,
or a moped,
a Winnebago–Hell, a herd of Winnebago’s we’re giving ’em away,
or how about a McCulloch chainsaw,
a Las Vegas wedding,
a Mexican divorce,
a solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
or a baby’s arm holding an apple?