I think that I will skip through life,

just step over the holes on to level ground

No pain, no chain, cut through the strife

listen now to my heart pound

As though a hammer mill was thinning my soul

Blow after blow, condensing my being into concentrate,

Just add water and do not be late, do not hate

That I can skip the lessons and not berate

The toiling folk who struggle

Through the steamy concrete jungle.

Around the interlude whence the music flows,

With the attitude of a flourishing rose,

So pretty to see , so painful to hold,

It is all about skipping and being bold.

God looks after fools you see,

And no greater exists than little old me!