Everyday for a week we would try to be a table Be a sportscar, ice cream cone
The teacher, he would say Very good except Diana, try, Diana, all alone So I dug right down to the bottom of my soul To see how an ice cream felt I dug right down to the bottom of my soul And I tried to melt
So the kids in the class said: Ooh, I feel chocolate, hey, I feel vanilla He said OK Ross, what do you feel? And I said nothing, I ain't feeling nothing
Deep down nothing is all my teacher had Everybody felt something But I felt nothing Except the feeling that this bull-shit was absurd
