PJ's on the Bridge (Arthur Dent)

[Intro] Yellow, Yellow... Yeah Yellow... Yellow Yellow, yellow, yellow... Oh Bloody Hell! [Verse] Thursday morning, kettle screaming like a banshee in the kitchen, Yellow engines chewing up the grass without permission. A man in a tie citing statutes and eviction — brilliant — Clutching a paper and scones to delay the imminent. Then Ford shows up with that cosmic, knowing look, Says the Earth was always just a footnote in a book. Next thing I know, the sky tears open with a spark, And I’m hitching a ride through the infinite dark. [Pre-Chorus] [Spoken with growing Confusion] "Ford, Why are you a Penguin?" "Great, My limbs appear to be going on without me..." "Ford, I think I'm a Sofa..." [Chorus] Have you any clue how it feels to be a couch, Dragged around the universe — I’m not trying to grouch. Here I am in my P J's, standing on the bridge, Of the Heart of Gold… an improbable privilege. Forty‑Two, Forty‑Two! Well how are you? I’ve got the answer — but the Question? Not a clue. [Verse] I’ve got a fish in my ear translating language universally Thrown into the cold of space after hearing some Vogon poetry. I’m missing my evening tea with a shameful fragility, Zaphod’s got two heads and he has an ego with three — Though it’s amusing when Trillian gives him the third degree. Marvin’s being existential at the ship’s computer, Eddie, Every time this ship takes a jump, it rearranges reality. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to make sure I’m me. [Pre-Chorus] "Magrathea?" "We're going to do that Improbability thing again aren't we" [Chorus] Have you ever been made entirely of Yarn? Blipped about the universe, not mad just so darn... ...Well, Here I am in me P J's, standing on the bridge, Of the Heart of Gold… an improbable privilege. Forty‑Two, Forty‑Two! Well how are you? I’ve got the answer — but the Question? Not a clue. "A Bowl of Petunias, and a bewildered Sperm Whale..." [Bridge] I’m just a bloke in his jammies and a dressing gown, Watching the whole damn universe just crumble down. Mice are running the maze, quietly pulling the strings — Oh, the absolute nonsense the universe brings. Absurdity or destiny — depends on what you reed; Ford tells me a towel and the Guide are all I need. “Don’t Panic,” it says in large, friendly print on its face, But my home world was vaporized for a bypass in space. [Chorus] Have you any clue how it feels stuck in calamity, Hitchhiking around the universe, clinging to my sanity. Here I am in my P J's, standing on the bridge, Of the Heart of Gold… oh, such a privilege. Forty‑Two, Forty‑Two! Well how are you? I’ve got the answer — but the Question? Not a clue. [Outro] I think I'm going to try and make some tea... if the universe allows... just a nice quiet cup of tea... ...somehow Ship, can you make me a cup of tea... please?