It has, I must admit, been said
I am not all I ought to be,
I don't let that get to my head,
Or really mess about with me,
But sometimes, in the dark of night
When all is quiet and at peace
I wonder what they speaker might
Have meant, until all thoughts must cease.
I try to let my mind work out
When I'm asleep, what that could mean;
I don't know what it's all about,
Nor do I wish to make a scene,
But is it really all that bad
To simply smile, and be glad?
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