Citizens of the true world hang out their laundrynEcstasy in every glance, love in every touchnNothings wasted, their perfume floats over the streetsnNo dead leaves underfoot, the sidewalks glow under mercurial feetnnOn good days we pretend we're just like themnOn good days we pretend that we are one with themnnThe wind is warm and rich as Howard Hughes wasnLook at them lay on their backs in the grassnthat grows through the true world nnnEverything in the world quivers with excitement to be younEvery moment of the world to be younnOn good days we'll pretend that the chill has reached our bonesnOn good days we'll pretend we can lead a normal life