Oh Jonnie you’d rather espies

Needles in your eyes

Than be asked...

Don’t hassle me man ! you decry ,

As the fur begins to fly

And she tells you to ‘get a life’;

Now you said all there is to be said

Once you said it, citing something you read,

No point in saying it twice;

Though you turned down all offers of choice

You still speak of having no voice,

What a paradox in electric socks,

Now you’re starting to climb right out of your box,

But though Jonnie, I hardly knew you,

I saw through you, not a great view,

Poor you, poor you, poor you!

Wish I would, perhaps I should, if only I could.

But I can’t;

There’s a war on, and the milk’s gone

Off, and... oh... always something else that’s wrong

All the time, everywhere,

With that guy that you met on the stair

Who definitely wasn’t all there,

And most of the people don’t care

Enough; And the time speeds by, for the mob and I,

Though change will come, when you can add up the sum,

And the answer you find

When you peel back the rind,

You’re guaranteed not to like it,

No, no, no.. You won’t like it...