D.J., D.J., D.J., you were doing so well,
rock on Manic Monday for as far as you could tell.
D.J., D.J., D.J., why’d you let your senses run
just as Anthony from Lansing came in with his gun?
Yes you kept your cool… no external fool…
but internal forces will not let you be –
will not let you see, will not set you free –
from this messy, mundane irrationality.
No eye contact – go about your day.
It’s a workplace; don’t lust your job away.
No eye contact – just this false fatigue
for coworkers working way out of your league.