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Some people get on a roll
While others they are just rolled
Along

Some are of blue blooded stock
Some of us sleep in the cold
So long

I'd become resigned to nothing more
When I washed up in my bottle on to your shore

Into a different mold the world you pour
And I have never felt this way before

You're such a wonderful kind of strange
You're just a wonderful kind of strange

Dreamy is the color of your eyes
They hatch from egg cartons like butterflies
When you wake

Didn't think I had the kind of heart could change
But then there's you up there on Mars singing 'Home On The Range'