Everyone Falls in Love, Somehow
By John Herlihy

I don’t like feeling boxed in,
Known to wear a foolish grin.
I see well through hooded eyes,
Though never hide what I despise.
The banjo is my instrument of choice,
Never did ever have much of a voice.
As square as a wood-packing crate,
No one dumb enough to be my mate.
What you see of me is what you get,
I guarantee that you will never forget.
Not known especially for my attire,
I am known to be sometimes for hire.
I am always hanging out and about,
I have never been straightened out.
About as crooked as the day is long,
Give up my brother as I whistle a song.
Hope to straighten out in a pine box,
Laid down forever like a stuffed fox.

Then what happened, she came along,
Lending me a feeling that she belonged.
Looked into me with those crystal eyes,
Reflecting honesty I could not despise.
Fate made me stumble upon Nancy Sue,
Indian summer skies were never so blue.
“You look like somebody’s fool,” she said.
For the first time in my life, my heart bled.
“Nobody’s fool to be liking you,” he replied,
Her breath sunk down deep into a sigh.
What am I about but a nameless drifter,
What could I possibly do to uplift her?
I’m about feeling chilled down to the bone;
Her name with mine carved on a tombstone.
Reckon I might sit down with you for a spell,
What might happen between us no one can tell.
I guess nearly everyone falls in love, somehow,
Like everyone, I have much written on my brow.