Wound up, can't sleep, can't do anything right, little honey / Oh, since I set my eyes on you. / I tell you the truth. I can't get it right / Get it right / Since I met you...
Ugh, that's kind of sad. The Monkees were far more talented than a manufactured teeny-bopper band had any right to be. Davy's gone, they should just leave it at that and not descend into lameness.