why is it each time i write
to god almighty, it's kinda right
are people scared of offending you
am i in line for the bummer queue
why is it, each time i write,
something else seems to be in sight
the deadline is always tomorrow morn
and i am writing something else till dawn
why is it each time i write,
i seem to have the speed alright
but when it comes to learning the ropes
i'm all at sea and sometimes no hope.
why is it oh why is it
that rhyming is easy if you know how
but when the emotion is out to play
the philosopher comes in sweeps it all away
why oh why so many questions have i
is it easy to ask and harder to try
for if you want to seek the truth
in you it should be and there ain't no book.
so looking will i do to be all sundry and wise
for where's a happy man without some surprise
for whence it comes and whence it shall be
i have no clue but it's all within me.
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