Happiness

My mother says I'm great And it always makes me sad I don't think she's being nice I really think she believes that So now I bend my days around the people All the people obey, whoa So sad it's nothing Happiness depends on who you blame I gather things can change So maybe she's asleep in her grave She gave her body to science So I'm not sure what's in her place Maybe roses or Tanqueray, whoa So sad it's nothing Happiness depends on who you blame I know the dead still listen She sings a part of every refrain Under the weight of the living Pointing a finger With no eyes to aim, whoa So sad it's nothing It's absolutely nothing So sad it's nothing It's absolutely nothing So sad it's nothing Happiness depends on who you blame