Without my glasses

The picture's blurred

This view...

This view of the world

It looks a little better

Look at your reflection in the

Technicolor screen

Yes, your hair is perfect

And your eyes reflect the gleam

And with a million different

Colored jeans to choose from

To pick a style, a color

And then to pick another

Your big brown eyes

Have got to be able to see

Talk to yourself

In the corridors

Thinking about, wishing, hoping for

For all the things that were and

And all the things that scream

Your name

Your name!

You hold your back up straight

And you're walking with a swagger

Your eyes, they look suspicious

You breathe fast and you're staggered

Nobody could guess

You're the official Bi-lo bagger

Appearances

Make a difference in our society

No longer

Is it honesty, philosophy, or piety

Some things don't happen

Like a floaty, gentle breeze

Most things have to be pushed right

Not a process full of ease...

So please...

Please help me

You know I need the help

It's the last thing

That I would ask

Anybody

So please...

Please help me