If my heart could purge every mistake,
Made for nothing but pretense sake,
Just where would I be now?

{Well it can't...so I just don't know
How befitting! that hope should go}

If my mind could still and never sway,
So many times throughout every day,
Would I still err somehow?

{Well it won't and I'm sure I will
I'm not the type meant to be still}

If my hands would only long to hold,
The two same hands until I grew old,
Would I wish to savor?

{But they don't and I don't think so
And just why I may never know}

And so I will choose to conform to me
I'll be kind and flippant, and also free
And do myself that favor.