I can see my welcome is wearing thin   There's much conjecture about the state we're in   I'm not feeling good as gold, I'm feeling cheap as tin   I think it's time for my Ritalin*      You say I don't care about   You and all the things you can't live without   You say it's only temporary   We're going to end up in purgatory      Couch...Fatboy**...Arms akimbo   Is...Fatboy...We're in limbo   Satan...Fatboy...Arms akimbo   Couch is Satan...We're in limbo      It's so impersonal on the phone   We are one but we are alone   You say it's only temporary   We're going to end up in purgatory      You say I don't care about   You and all the things you can't live without   I'm not feeling good as gold, I'm feeling cheap as tin   I think it's time for my Ritalin      Procrastination is second nature   And prone to exotic nomenclature   I think the more we put it off the more we   Are likely to end up in purgatory