Skyclad

Pray for my poor melancholy soul,
I've cried so many tears inside -
my head's a goldfish bowl.
A mood so depp - so far above you all,
With no one there to catch me if I fall.
This is your man in the street reporting,
and so far all we've got is that a regular guy is on a ledge up high -
he's had enough of an irregular lot.
And in World exclusive live tonight,
brought to you via satellite -
the last sane man heard frankly speaking
'but the 'ups and downs' of leaping.
He says...
Chorus:
I'm lighter than air - I haven't a care,
Still gravity pulls me under.
Credibility gaps - gullability fills -
They were bringing me down (no wonder).
Square pegs, round holes, last dregs, own goals -
Monkey puzzle my fist won't fit inside.
Ever day nothing new - black and white dja-vu,
Makes me feel I wann spread my wings and glide.