I’m broke but I’m happy, I’m poor but I’m kind… I’m short but I’m healthy.  Yeah.  I’m high but I’m grounded.  I’m sane (but I’m overwhelmed!), I’m lost — but I’m hopeful baby.  What it all comes down to is that every thing’s gonna be fine, fine, fine… I’ve got one hand in my pocket and the other one is giving a high five.

I feel drunk but I’m sober.  I’m young and I’m underpaid: I’m tired but I’m working (yeah?).  I care but I’m worthless, I’m here… but I’m really gone.  I’m wrong, and I’m sorry baby.  What it all comes down to is that every thing’s gonna be quite alright — I’ve got one hand in my pocket and the other one is flicking a cigarette.

What it all comes down to is that I haven’t got it all figured out just yet.  I’ve got one hand in my pocket, and the other one is giving the peace sign.

I’m free but I’m focused.  I’m green, but I’m wise.  I’m shy… but I’m friendly baby.

I’m sad but I’m laughing, I’m brave but I’m chicken shit.  I’m sick but I’m pretty baby.  And what it all boils down to is that no one’s really got it figured out just yet: I’ve got one hand in my pocket and the other one is playing the piano.

What it all comes down to my friends is that every thing’s just fine.  Fine.  FINE!  I’ve got one hand in my pocket (and the other one is hailing a taxicab).