Inanimate objects

I pity inanimate objects, because they can't move. From specks of dust to paperweights. Is a tree as a rocking horse an ambition fulfilled? And is the sawdust jealous?

This was a song from Godley and Creme (ex-10cc), from the album "Freeze Frame", somewhere at the end of the 80s. My must favoured LP (you young ones: ask your dad what's that about). The song always keeps humming in my mind. Like G&C say in the song: I worry about these things.