Story of a moronic daydreamer

Here comes the story of a regular guy
He knows what he's doing and he hates it like that
He smokes a cigarette while he drinks his coffee
Like everybody else that's what he has to be.

He's walking cross the street,
while a car comes really fast
the dude driving the car
brakes hard and then he screams
what the fuck are you doing
you moronic cocksucker
and the dude just walks on by
while flipping him the bird.

Tired and bored and sick
He goes to the office
But he doesn't get in
he walks on to the park

And so he lies and rests a bit
and daydreaming he thinks he can
leave the world he's involved in
and start creating a new one

In which the trees could actually speak
and people could only listen
In which the streets no longer exist
and in the sky there'd be two suns

And he wakes up, and he stands up
And he crosses that street again
But there's nobody driving by
just a few birds flying about.