Going about his life vacuously, vicariously, waiting for that change in tide,
Sometimes unfeeling, unloving, over-thinking, in his own private deep-dank, well,
Othertimes super happy and content in his own shellfish shell,
Then one day his vibe started to change,
He felt incomplete, out of sorts, a little strange,
Like having an itch you can't scratch, as it's way out of range,
The scratching and ripping inside left him hurt and stung,
Then one day he opened his shell (for once) and right there nestled on his tongue,
(It) was the most beautiful pearl he ever did see,
So perfect so beautiful, he became shiny with glee,
For now he saw all that pain and suffering had been worth just to feel the smoothness of feeling well,
For nothing good would ever happen if you never felt all kinds of hell,
Just ask that happy Oyster Boy that's really come out of his shell!
