i'd learn nothing
if i counted on experience
something's missing from my life because
i know some words but i don't understand their significance
i'd read text books but the print is a strain
i'd take lessons but schools hurt my brain
(the facts of life are full of fantasy)
i'm a driver i've a car
i've the oil (and that's a start)
i've a map but nowhere to go
i'll go far
the highway is full of signs
that lie outside my terms of reference
i’d try it for size but i haven't a clue
i’d drift around but there's nothing to do
(the facts of life are full of fantasy)

quiet roads are lined with glass eyes
in cities you've no need to see
the highway is simply a guide
but i let it think for you and me.
we're passing the route form the roads
that's marked out for refugees
but the passage is restricted to those
that live by the backdoor key.
i'd run away but i can't use my logs
i'd ask for my card but they'd never say yes
(the facts of life are full of fantasy)

dick witts text by richard witts