| A man wakes up each morning and says,
"I guess I'm not asleep any more,
It's no longer night, but I am still dreaming,
Dreaming with less than delight that I've turned into a clown,
Who slobbers in the day and drools all night.
It's too warm under the covers for a morning man
Who's not an egg, and the night's too cool for a desert sport,
Yet I can't keep my shorts dry or my wick wet--
But what's that go to do with Anything,
Much less with this?
Some things ARE disgusting, so why not me?
Now everyone I've ever known has gone away
And sent back messages that are slighting or totally silent,
Or else they've stayed where they were
Aand starved themselves too long
And blame me now for their not being fed
And no longer give a damn
About whether we should quit
Or should we even try to recall any of the rest of it!" |
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)