The time of my life, a record of myself   An accurate sketch of perfect health   A roof on my head, shoes on my feet   Plenty of room, plenty to eat      Been very far, made lots of friends   I love my mother, hope to see her again   I'm a wanderer now, sorrow befalls me   I laugh often, so I suppose I'm gonna be fine      Mozart he said, "There's nothing to composing"   And that's all we do   We just write and play   And write and play and write and      Here, here and here   He pointed to his heart and mind and ears   He said, "Here, here and here"   He pointed to his heart and mind and ears      Here, here and here   He pointed to his heart and mind and ears   He said, "Here, here and here"   He pointed to his heart and mind and ears      (Here, here and here)   Mozart he said, "There's nothing to composing"   (He pointed to his heart and mind and ears)   Yeah, yeah, yeah      (Here, here and here)   Mozart he said, "There's nothing to composing"   (He pointed to his heart and mind and ears)   Yeah, yeah, yeah      (Here, here and here)   Mozart he said, "There's nothing to composing"   (He pointed to his heart and mind and ears)   Yeah, yeah, yeah      (Here, here and here)   Mozart he said, "There's nothing to composing"   (He pointed to his heart and mind and ears)   Yeah, yeah, yeah