(marvin hamlisch/ed kleban)Everyday for a week we would try to be a tableBe a sportscar, ice cream coneThe teacher, he would sayVery good except diana, try, diana, all aloneSo I dug right down to the bottom of my soulTo see how an ice cream feltI dug right down to the bottom of my soulAnd I tried to meltSo the kids in the class said:Ooh, I feel chocolate, hey, I feel vanillaHe said ok ross, what do you feel? And I said nothing, I ain’t feeling nothingDeep down nothing is all my teacher hadEverybody felt somethingBut I felt nothingExcept the feeling that this bull-shit was absurd