Nonesuch

It makes no sense to say the things I say
Or do the things I do - of course it doesn't.
To make much sense destroys one's sense of play
And I'd be devastated if mine wasn't
In peak condition. Nonsense is quite grand
And I adore it so much that I fear
If mine were somehow lost, or even banned,
I'd lose the compass rose by which I steer.
I cannot dream of life without my fun,
And if, as I believe I've demonstrated,
My fun cannot be properly begun
When sense is present, sense is terminated.
And so I do not care what I may do
Or say, though it's nonsensical to you.