Lyrics:
I write the b-sidesThat make a small portion of the world cryI like the seasideAnd singing songs that make you not wanna dieThrow a stone into the seaAnd wait for it to come back to meBetter get out on the boat'Cause someone told me that stones don't floatI like to sit out backAnd look up at the squirrels in the treesThey don't like radio tracksAnd they don't ever talk down to meThrow a nut up in the treeGonna fall right back on meWell, these guys know who they areAnd what they need's in their own backyardHoo, hooI like to play in the snowI stick my hand in, now where did it go?It might be mighty coldBut that's all part of not doing what you're told