Maybe I should be a writer,
wroight a book and feel much brigter,
share my thoughts with the world.
Or maybe I could be a film maker,
celluloid, more fun than paper,
you never see the scren`s corners curl.
Aah maybe then I could be a lover,
find a girl and win her over,
and tell her that she`s the only one.
But maybe then a philanderer,
I`d sneak around and lie to her,
and kid myself that I`m the happy one.
I`m not looking over four leaf clover,
I`m just waiting for hell to freeze over.
Maybe I should take the mike, (mic`)
stand up tall like Michael Stipe,
and try to solve all the problems of the earth.
Or maybe then I should sit back down,
scratch my chin and use my frown,
and try to figure out exactly what I`m worth.
We`r estill building churches, burning books,
killing the babies to feed the cooks.
Who said the world would turn out fair?
So I guess I`ll dig myself a hole,
ask the devil if he wants my soul,
And do soemthing real like cut my hair.
Ooh, Send " Mission Drive" Ringtone to your Cell