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!