I sound like Michael Stipe And I dream like Carl Jung And I look just like a show girl Who sleeps with her makeup on And I'm ready for the foot lights To play the part I'm cast I may not be a star But I'm happy at last Dance like Billy Budd And I pray like Dinah Shore I disappear like Garbo But I come back wanting more And I don't know where I'm going I'm running out of cash I may not be well off But I'm happy at last You know, I may not be well off But I'm happy at last I'm not as smart As a Sunday Times crossword puzzle Big words get me into trouble I never see the little light shine down I burn too fast I may be pale but I'm happy at last I'm happy at last I have a friend back home Who likes to sleep all day He packs his pipe, reflects on life And dreams his debt away He still lives with his parents Just like he always has He may not always know it But he's happy at last You know, he may not always know it He's happy at last Happy at last Happy at last Happy at last Happy at last