A Sloppy Love Story
One might think I've gone crazy,
Sure because I act loony.
This is far from being lazy
T'is neither piquant nor funny.
Why reminisce on the life of a friend?
When he is out to strife for his ends,
I doubt that he ever remember,
That we once shared a cucumber.
Why stair at his pictures with tears?
When he has been gone for years,
I smell of him while daydreaming,
Though I'm not close to his thousand dreams.
To my friends I call out his name,
And some mistake it for his fame.
I hear his footsteps growing this way,
When actually he's going away.
Oh! Why this long and sleepless nights?
When he is happy with no plight.
Why with pleasure I wait his return?
When someone has taken my turn.
This is phooey!
But certainly not a hooey.
When will I leave this aimless lorry,
For mine is a sloppy love story.
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