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You’ve got an invitation 
But you don’t have the guts
You have been so kind, so patient 
Now you’re going slightly nuts
With all your plastic desires
With all your trivial dreams
You want nothing but to fire 
All of them full of beans 

When the world becomes a little bit concrete 
And all those clowns displease
You will find me out on Main-street
Dancing with the holy trees 

Weary of not doing 
The things you want to do
Tired of pursuing
Things you never wanted to 
Of all your plastic desires
Of all your trivial dreams
You want nothing but to fire 
All of them full of beans