He goes home, seeking consolation
Among old Beatles and Pink Floyd—
But “Girl” elicits mere frustration,
While “Money” leaves him more annoyed.
Alas, he hungers less for money
Than for a fleeting Taste of Honey.
Murmuring, “Money–it’s a gas!…
The lunatic is on the grass,”
He pours himself a beer. Desires
And reminiscences intrude
Upon his unpropitious intrude
Until he feels that he requires
A one-way Ticket to Ride—and soon—
Across the Dark Side of the Moon.