I'm having the urge to measure some loblolly pines.

Are these times contagious
I've never been this bored before
Is this the prize I've waited for
Now as the hours passing
There's nothing left here to insure
I long to find a messenger

Is there a cure among us
From this processed sanity
I weaken with each voice that sings
In this world of purchase
I'm going to buy back memories
To awaken some old qualities

(Collective Soul)