i woke up this morning with a feeling of despair
my head was on the floor and my feet were under the chair
rain was beating on the wall and seeping through the window
and i wondered with all my heart and soul what had brought me so low
i sat up and wondered, where had i been
i put my hand in my pockets but of course they had been picked clean
outside in the street a truck blew its horn
and i wished that i had never been born
but i had been born - i surely had
so there was no point in getting mad
the pertinent question was where was i
the rain continued to fall from the sky
i sat there wondering why and wherefore
when suddenly there was a knock on the door
after a last glance around the little room
i closed my eyes and awaited my doom
later that evening at her majesty’s ball
i stood in the corner and read the writing on the wall
the rebel armies were advancing from the south
the glass fell from my hand and the cigar from my mouth
the generals were talking to a maiden fair
of whose existence i had not been aware
who is that ravishing creature, i asked the black prince
but he passed me by, and i have not seen him since
the room began spinning, and the walls to shake
i wondered how much more i could take
perhaps you are asking yourself the same thing
but if we wait for a moment the birds will sing
who are these wise men invading my dreams
do they not realize nothing is what it seems
i wrote them a letter a long time ago
and for my good intentions have nothing to show
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