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...
