We are kind of at a crossroads now.

Nowhere to fall but off, Nowhere to stand but on.

Nowhere to fall but off; Nowhere to stand but on.

Nothing to do but work, / Nothing to eat but food, / Nothing to wear but clothes / To keep one from going nude.

We seem to exist in a hazardous time, Driftin' along here through space; Nobody knows just when we begun, Or how fur we've gone in the race.

Nothing to do but work, Nothing to eat but food, Nothing to wear out but clothes, To keep one from going nude.