She lectured me on my self-destructive tendecies
She asked me why I wasn't more uptight
It gave her such a fright to meet a guy
Who didn't seem to know how to hang out right
She spoke to me of my ill-developed apathy
Which had so long kept me from the light
It seemed that I was inflicted great discomfort
By an eminence of hanging out right
Technique is the decisive factor
For you must slouch at proper angles
Against the student union wall
I blew her scene with my so-called human magazine
She handed me two volumes from her shelf
If it is your wish to hang out do so with these
A book of poems, a book of knowing thyself
Technique is the decisive factor
For you must hold your beverage casually
To party most effectively
She pictured me another victim of fraternity
?All saddled? within proper style and cool
In conclusion she advised "Hang out right or not at all
If not at all then you must be a fool
If not at all then you must be a fool"
Was I born to share this curse?
Or do I dare disturb the universe?
Do I dare to hang out right?