What makes the mist boil off the street? What makes big molecules soak up more heat? Just that they can do it -- they don't have to choose. They've got those everloving degree-of-freedom blues.
Why isn't the sky solid white with stars? Why don't you see much from Jupiter to Mars? There's lots of space for losing what you have to lose. Just don't let it give you those degree-of-freedom blues.
Energy is everything -- so some people say, but entropy has got the keys and trucks it all away. Everything is plenty -- more than we can use, but most of it is down with those degree-of-freedom blues.
We may get TV signals from deep in outer space, and funny, long-dead faces may stare us in the face. If they look a little green, that won't be news. That's just your dopplered-down degree-of-freedom blues.
There are more words than you can ever say, more stars and people than ever come your way. You ignore the billions to learn the ones and twos. Open up your ears to those degree-of-freedom blues.
Once love was stuck in cylinders and pulled creation's train, but now, if you believe it, it's falling with the rain. Love is free to cover whatever may amuse. I think I hear love drumming those degree-of-freedom blues.
Ropes knot and snarl if you just let them be. No river runs straight down to the sea. Crooked ways are billions; straight ways, ones and twos. All the worms are singing those degree-of-freedom blues.
We send our whores banging thru the sky; we keep on building bombs as if we'd like to die -- just cause we can do it (costs too much to choose). That's what's got me singing those degree-of-freedom blues.
You can run a rocky road balancing a pole, but you can't run with water and keep it in the bowl. What you've got to run with has still more ways to lose, and what you've got to live with is degree-of-freedom blues.