If my wife had known that
She was marrying a poet
And she'd be spending the rest of her life in rhyme

I think if she had known it
It would have sent her over the edge
Or at least pretty close to the line

Poets never show it
But we never seem to grow up
I'm sure that's some sort of sign

That what goes on in our heads
Is nothing but a big mess
As we're stuck in the warp of time

I'm not sure she would have done it
The marrying of a poet
Cause who but a poet wants a life marred in rhyme