To Myself Softly

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Inspired by an unexpectedly interesting conversation with a Boston cabbie who seemed to know a little too much.

Sir where may I drive you 
With your finery and trappings
To the world renowned palace
So high in the rankings

And what do you do there 
For you plainly are princely
I order activity 
Of circuits and machinery

Now leave me to working 
While you do drive me
I know where you hail from
Of your far away kingdom

How could you know it
A mere village hackney
The tales of your queen 
Are known in our country

Does the queen tell you kindly 
That you're a fine scholar
Have you known a lord 
To praise you a driver

I sing my own praises
To myself softly
What wisdom I have
That is enough for me

Tell me now of the princess 
For whom shall she marry
I know not who warrants
There are too many vying

Name the three manners
That rise above others
Philosophy bravery
I can't name another

Here is the palace
The trip has passed quickly
I hope to drive you 
Again if you need me

I will sing your praises
And I'll sing them loudly
What wisdom you have
That is enough for me

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