Tickety Tockety Sprockety Rockety.
Where is my shockety brockety pockety?
What is in it, that I can inny pinny have?
What is out there, that is bigger than a calf?
Tickety Tockety Sprockety Rockety.
Where is my mind, and who owns a rocket?
I am ready for outer space, I want to spring into space.
I want to go out quickly, no one taking my place.
Tickety Tockety Sprockety Rockety.
Who are you to keep me sanctioned in mire?
When I want to spring forth so much higher and higher.
Who are you to tell important me what to do?
I do not have to listen to anyone, especially you.
Tickety Tockety Sprockety Rockety.
Stop holding me back, I do not want your reality.
I want my own-ness-ness; I believe in immortality.
What is it, you are trying to gain by having your own way?
You may be common sense, and I really need you to go away.
Categories:
rockety, introspection,
Form: Rhyme