| Superthick chunks of broken life and reality |
| At the dinner table come to me Say goodbye, my friend, my exit’s here |
| My road’s so long, a million miles or so Too much for me, I got to go My navigator’s here |
| And they say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| On Jupiter |
| Except for the meteors |
| And Nebraska’s so flat that I don’t care |
| I’ll never use this map, have I made it clear |
| I don’t know jack, but I stay sincere |
| Woah-oh my navigator’s here |
| Superthick chunks of broken light in the Milky Way |
| You never know if they’re burning bright |
| In Anchorage the sun’s up about half the night |
| Half the day and most of the time |
| The sun burns bright all the time |
| Then the winter comes |
| And they say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| In Anchorage |
| Except for the polar bears |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| They say it’s nice this time of year |
| On Jupiter |
| Except for the meteors |
| They say it’s nice this time of year on Jupiter… |