Everyday for a week we would try to be a table   Be a sportscar, ice cream cone      The teacher, he would say   "Very good except Diana, try, Diana, all alone"   So I dug right down to the bottom of my soul   To see how an ice cream felt   I dug right down to the bottom of my soul   And I tried to melt      So the kids in the class said:   "Ooh, I feel chocolate, hey, I feel vanilla"   He said "OK Ross, what do you feel?"   And I said nothing, I ain't feeling nothing      Deep down nothing is all my teacher had   Everybody felt something   But I felt nothing   Except the feeling that this bull-shit was absurd