Upper-class Blues I'm so scared of what I am, I can't smile anymore, but I dontt give a damn, I'm a nothing man, and I'm headin' for the door. Anyway, I might as well grow up, cause I've never cleaned my plate or seen the bottom of my cup. I'm cuttin' out of these suburban slums, to walk a dusty road, cause I'd rather be a dirty man than a shiny clean commode. You've tried to shrink my mind till I'm tired and I want to hide, so I'm leavin' now, to fall or fly, but at least I will have tried. And I'm not afraid of crudding up my brand new shoes, cause I'd rather be dead than to suffer with the upper-class blues. Anyway, I might as well grow up, for I've never cleaned my plate or seen the bottom of my cup. I'm so damn scared, frightened of the padding, shakin' in my shoes, your asphalt playgrounds bore me, and your stuffy heads do, too. I'm a nothing man, don't give a damn, I'm a product of your schools, I'm a nothing man, but whatever I am, I'll leave your ship of fools. So I'm jumping off to fall or fly, to sink or swim, to live or die, I'm leavin' now, but I don't mind, I'm not afraid to try. And I'm not afraid of crudding up my brand new shoes, I'd rather be dead than suffer with the upper-class blues. I'm so scared of what I'm not, I'm not laughing anymore, but I don't give a damn if I can't or can, or what I'm living for. Any-way, in spite of you, it's time that I grew up, I've never cleaned my plate or seen the bottom of my cup. Maharizni Karotlovitch, Dec. 7, 1972