We don't speak in prose So what's the meaning, no one knows I'll lose myself and find no end To make believe I still pretend I could say I laughed it off Then turn around and bump you off I'll lose myself and find no end To hate a friend Well, you talk in ways that your 'might' Is always too often 'may' And then you walk away Let's cut right to the chase With the dullest knife we've got I'll lose myself and find no end To make believe I still pretend Born into a minus world, oh no