We're building a snowman
And it's not going well.
The snow just won't pack
And nobody will help.
It's cold and it's wet.
The ground underneath's muddy.
And we're sitting here wishing
That instead it was sunny.
The neighbor kids come
Saying they want to play
But only as long as
We do it their way.
They kick the snow 'round
And start a big fight.
Shove our faces in snow
'Til they're all white.
When we ran away,
They screamed, "No fair!"
"That's not in the rules!
You must stand there."
They kick down our snowman
And when we start crying,
They make Boo-Hoo faces,
And tell us, "Stop whining!"
The sun starts setting.
They all are called home.
We are left standing
In snow-dust alone.
Oh, we hate those darned neighbors
And their kind of fun.
From now on, we decide
How our happiness is run.
I tried to write this one as a metaphor. Often in the world, we seek help from others, only to have them tell us how we're doing it wrong. Then, they step in and show us the "right" way, often destroying something that makes us happy, and spit in our face when we become upset about the way they run things. Every man should be left to himself.
