Sometimes I feel like a cat stuck up in a treenGot a whole crowd of people looking up at menWondering how to get me downnOh I could come downnBe a part of the crowd, the scene, the clownnThe ghost that can't get off the merry-go-roundnOr I could sit right herennCounting the minutesnCounting the hoursnCounting the minutesnCounting the hoursnnSometimes I feel like a rat running in a wheelnRunning and running and runningnBut man, what's the dealnI'm not getting anywherenIt's not fair that my brain is the size of a peanAnd I've got 1 foot in the gutter nAnd another in a trash heapnAnd roll-on in my hairnnCounting the minutesnCounting the milesnCounting the minutesnCounting the milesnnSometimes I feel like a toad in the middle of the roadnThere's a truck coming at me and there's two ways to gonBut there's no time to decidenI don't mind being small in a world that's tall nAnd mean and lean and built by machinesnIt ain't easy being greennnCounting the minutesnFlipping the coinnCounting the minutesnFlipping the coinnnCounting the minutesnFlipping the coinnCounting the minutesnFlipping the coin