July 11 2005...10:11 in the p.m...In The Kitchen At The Manor...
I just got home from Poetry Night which Fred got me into
Last week he spent the night here but now I wonder too
As Fred seemed very cool to me he answered me not much
I asked if I'd offended him, he said, 'No!' Didn't mean it much!
Another 'friend' gone down the tubes well so it seems to me
What is it with these bipeds? They still say that it's me!
Well I am me that's true enough seems much too much for them
Maybe that is why it seems I can't hold onto friends!
Can it be 'cos I am English? At least by birth it's so
Is it because they're Yankees? But they came from England! Doh!
If England didn't want them and they were glad to go
I wonder if that is the why of how they treat me so?
At first it's oh so wonderful it don't take very long
Not at least it seems to me they wish me to begone!
I seem to be like getting used to Hello and Goodbye
Maybe I'm meant to wander through this world with mostly I?
I wish this didn't seem to be the way it's meant to be
And even with the bills and such I suppose I am still free!
To do just what I want to do, or not as case may be
With no one to say, 'Don't do that, or this don't do that thing!'
At present no bells ring at all can't hear no ding-a-ling!
The soond of silence but for 'tick' of clock upon the wall
It goes 'Tick, Tock!' and that is it, oh what a lot of balls!