Bust up from the start
I knew it wasn't for the faint of heart
The try again getting pretty stale
While my mission creeps in the face of travail
A list here and a list there
One unwritten describes a pear
that's the shape of the going of the best laid
What choice but to drink the Later-Ade
Later the song the book the masterpiece
Later travel, charity, the fight for peace
What creeps out of the modern jungle
a whole lotta unexpected mission to bungle
And then a pin in it and back to scrum
Got to do what's to do from here to Kingdom Come
and try to find the moment and a positive vibe
pending a signal from my post-ismic tribe
my imaginary million distributed freak
more I don't know so thereof I don't speak
Call it a tall tale about hope
all it a course correction call it a trope
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