The Rays You're poked you're lost you're tired again It's the cold it's the frost I'm lying my friend Actually I'm warm lyin in my bed In the best of form just restin' my head The rays now will fall - onto us all These forms of life that surround us now The sweetness the strife the short and the tall The bitter and the sweet the stuff that makes us tick.. Untidy yet neat, I don't wanna seem too slick..