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I sound like Michael Stipe
And I dream like Carl Jung
And I look just like a show girl
Who sleeps with her makeup on
And I'm ready for the foot lights
To play the part I'm cast
I may not be a star
But I'm happy at last
Dance like Billy Budd
And I pray like Dinah Shore
I disappear like Garbo
But I come back wanting more
And I don't know where I'm going
I'm running out of cash
I may not be well off
But I'm happy at last
You know, I may not be well off
But I'm happy at last
I'm not as smart
As a Sunday Times crossword puzzle
Big words get me into trouble
I never see the little light shine down
I burn too fast
I may be pale but I'm happy at last
I'm happy at last
I have a friend back home
Who likes to sleep all day
He packs his pipe, reflects on life
And dreams his debt away
He still lives with his parents
Just like he always has
He may not always know it
But he's happy at last
You know, he may not always know it
He's happy at last
Happy at last
Happy at last
Happy at last
Happy at last