There's something in the art of words Which mesmerizes me... And makes me to accept as fact... Things I know could never be. Like... perfect love. How foolish that- We could to such aspire. When we all know that human lusts Of Hell are set afire. And peace on earth, while you and I Do wrestle for control? If it were not so pitiful- I'd find the concept droll. Success? and fame? for peasants born? What folly that would bring. I find me most successful- When I merely write and sing. My song is for my pleasure- And not for tawdry gain... I write to cheer up others- And try to ease their pain. Please try and understand me- It may be passing hard... My only goal in this my life- Is to be a nameless bard.
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