When I am twenty-two I'll have holes in my shoes I'll smell of apple breeze Still climbing ancient trees And I hope you're around To lie with me on the sunny ground I want to eat your elderberry sin And trace the lines of your sacred skin I've never been so bored Talking about the war Sunday's make me depressed Won't bother getting dressed And nowadays I don't feel alive Everything we're doing so can try Purple Octopus of manic brain Swims up through my arteries and veins Steampunk with cold milkshake Quoting "Old Lights" from Blake I dream in sepia Blood of anemia And none of us will ever be content With our college education and our friends Living in the bars and record stores Sweating out empathy on Dan's floor