4 o'clock this morning    I was Woken from a dream    In which my bones were reassembled   In a minor league museum   And blaze children with their worksheets    Had to find out who I was back then   When I used to walk the earth   Churning out my finely crafted songs      And sloping to the bathroom   Through the darkenss of the landing   I sat down to have a piss   'Cause it was easier than standing   And imagined my exhibit being    Crated up for storage in an   Airtight basement room   Archived where it probably belongs            I look at you and fail to understand   Just what it is that gives you wealth and fame   When so many people seem to have exactly what you've got   But somehow it never quite works out the same   Is it luck?   Is it friends?   Or is it something more obvious that I can't see?   One thing I'm really certain about   It isn't aimed at guys like me   Is it only me that thinks you're an obnoxious poser?   Or does everyone else think so too?   Strutting around like you're gods gift to the world   While you disciples form a disorderly queue   Well let me play devils advocate for a moment   And publicly state that you are scum   I can tell from the howls of disapproval   That I'm in a minority of one.    Yeah      And now I'm through with avuncular diplomacy   I've stopped saying "I think I need to hear some more"   Cause this stuff is rubbish, I can't stand it that's that   And I don't care if I sound like a dinosaur   I never thought I'd come across like my dad   When I played my Ackles, my Love and my Shy Limbs   All I can say, is I suddenly looking in the mirror   And I found I'd turned into him