What can I ramble on about:
- that hasn't already been said;
- and what can I scribble down:
- that hasn't already been read?
It seems, as though,
- it's all been done and seen.
Is it useless to hope to create and inspire;
- have I been-
- chasing a long lost linguistic magic?
Oh- how tragic;
- if that is, indeed, the case it to be!

I think that I might be better off in shades:
- so that my acquaintances won't see the way
- my eyes jot forth and back through the day
- and night. Hell; who needs to see in dim light, eh?

Dry those eyes, my dear;
you must know that: ain't nobody here
- can hear your pleas with two open ears.
Has it not been proven true over the years?
Have your "friends" not left you there in tears?
It really tears me apart- No! - tears me in half:
- knowing how you've been treated from the start
- and, so often, in the past.
Yes; it, truly, does rip caverns in my heart.
Oh- how it does, indeed, shred me apart
- to see how you've been treated in the past!
I hope that the last one to do so- was just that.

This big hunk of steel puts off carbon gas:
- as I sit here, parked, admiring Cass.
If I were to look away to remove the keys:
- too much time will have past, I do believe-
- since I had seen, & laid my eyes upon,
- this, truly, immaculate queen.
I do, indeed, hope that this angel sees-
- just exactly how much she means to me;
for- I'm her man &'ll always have a gleam
- in my eye- when I look to the right
- and see her, there, right by my side.
I'm dreaming her on the passenger side-
- because I, honestly, believe -
- that's where we were bound to reside!

I was never one for grand, stone built castles;
- I've always preferred staying safe in my den.
Then, these eyes hit your kingdom & bedazzled
- I became. Heaven will be the seconds when
- you lower that towering, old oak drawbridge
- allowing me to enter the center of your palace.
"You bear a blade, dear knight, I have seen this-"
"Yes, your highness, I'm armed- but offer no malice
- nor malicious behavior. You see? My busi-
- ness is with you! A whisper, I've heard through
- the trees.. and it has lead me straight here to thee.
It said, 'you bear some gloom, look kind of blue;
- down this path is a beautiful queen-to-be and she
- is not happy. Why don't you go and chat with her?'"

My mind has come to a conclusion:
- that I need to go somewhere rich in seclusion
- to a place in the woods where I can think.
The state of the world has only caused me to sink
- deeper into my long trench of concerns.
I need to go fall asleep next to the dying ferns
- and forget this grim world that they've created.
Yes! There's no longer any time to debate it;
I must be off- & gone from my companions thoughts.
Yes, my friends, it's true; I've simply got
- to get away from this gloom ridden space.
I need to find, in the trees, my own little place
- where I can live without government control.
That, you see- my friends, is my destined goal.

May I assist you-
or is it me who needs help?
Such a faint blue:
tis' how I've, lately, felt.
However, it's a pretty colour;
so I can't, and won't, complain.
I won't allow the sorrow to smother-
me (nor let my soul be drain-ed).
For: I know it will all work out-
so there's no use in crying or pout-
ing about things that may never happen.