Really? This is my life now? Rolling around with an
Old man who smells like a college dorm room on Saturday night,
Barely alive, zombified by years of smoking the whole effin' joint?

Very well, I'll lace up these boots and zip up this jumpsuit,
Align the stars themselves like a funky prophecy, I'm cosmic, baby,
Neptune in retrograde so try not to get sensitive, it's not you, it's me.

Don't let the good times fool you, I'm all business in the ring,
Accounting for all the angles and giving you the receipt
Meet you out there, Hobart, I'll be the one looking like a guy you can't beat.