Some people are young and nothing else
And some people are old and nothing else
And some people are in between and just in between
And if the flies wore clothes on their backs
And all the buildings burned in golden fire
If heaven shook like a belly dancer
And all the atom bombs began to cry
Some people would be young and nothing else
And some people old and nothing else
And the rest would be the same
The rest would be the same
The few who are different are eliminated quickly enough by the police
By their mothers their brothers others
By themselves
All that's left is what you see
It's hard