Rub it in or the wrong way,
You’ll get a rise out of the type machine clicking away,
Pick up the tab for a friend or one day,
Let it slide inside your pocket.
Search me, not in everything I have a say,
Just get it off your chest, don’t lose your cool, I know it’s gibberish making words like an absurd play,
( I’ll line them up, they’ll serve their purpose,
Couldn’t think of a paragraph, so put them all, more or less,
I admit, it’s a mess! )
But they aren’t stray,
This is just another sort of display.
This context is under copyright.