Counting hopeless dreams stripped from the sandman’s grasp
Kept waiting, left chaffing
The restraining corset equipped on daddy’s farm breaks a clasp
Worth stating, more berating
Left in transit as thoughts collide, drifting off on that one once relied
Envision ghosts, stagnant at posts, awaiting the toast, at Greg Giraldo’s roast
A passing cloud, it’s well endowed, the screaming’s loud, daddy’s proud
Broken bones, the girl moans, the old man groans, salacious tones
Nursery bound departure of a beloved mother, swept off by a younger lover
Father time awaits the clock, chairs rock, nurturing his flock, displayed ****
In speechless rage, on a well lit stage, chalked up to age, comes an averted cage
Nothing’s going to change my world. Nothing’s going to change my world.