Writing simple love songs, with a smile upon my face, I'm waiting in anticipation, That everything will find its place, And as I sit here now, With a pen in my hand, Trying to find some clever rhyme And hoping the metre turns out fine This is not the kind of song that I find easy or clear, The lyrics seem so clumsy and they never sound sincere, I try to go third person so the meanings are obscured, But there's a certain charm to tripping up And speaking plain as you hit the floor In the hands of the Master poet, the meaning so easily comes, On the banks of exotic rivers, in the land of the Midnight sun, Up the face of the highest mountains, at the bottom of the deepest sea, Searching for words in the calm absurd when the outcome is plain to see (x3)