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