I’ve lost all the music again.
Sabotaged by the lack of a pen
I’ll extemporize faster
With my brain in dried plaster
If it sets, I’ll be perfectly Zen.
I broke my leg but it wasn’t too bad
A leg never thinks or feels sad
My brain needs a glove
Of gentle, kind love.
Is it me or is everyone mad?
I saw my old man on a bus
It was pulling away,how I cursed
I only glanced sideways
On the streets and the highways
I’m almost fatalistic or worse.