"Good Times" lyrics - JIM O'ROURKE

I may be dressed as a doctor, dear
But I'm not, I'm just acting up
Got high hopes
A passing thought
I may act like a bombardier
But don't be fooled, 'cause my aim is off
No need for alarm
I'll catch you next time

I'd like to raise the Titanic here
Take a walk down its molding streets
And feel right at home
'Cause the dead don't talk
It'd be so nice, if you weren't here
Empty air, where you used to stand
Like an empty plate
That gets bussed away