I Dont Think I Can Change
I don’t think I can change;
I’ll find doing so strange.
I would reckon the range
Of things to rearrange
Age-old thrills for good bye:
Telling of a half lie,
Dislike for a brown tie,
After half glass deep sigh
A morning’s mouthful cry
Followed by a smile dry
Do you still want my change:
Wrongs just fail to avenge?
Won’t it me just derange:
Like wives husbands estrange?
Not a full cracked fellow
But one others keep low
Or take for The Hollow…
I don’t feel I should change
Before a planned revenge
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