by yellow brick road or climb a golden stair?
will i be happy, will it be fair?
this is enough to make me pull my hair.
in anger, in rage, in outright a frenzy,
in a flight of white passion, and a flaccidness mimsy.
i think it is time to take in consideration,
that it is a republic, more than a confederation.
this simple life, wherever it may be,
over the ocean and under a tree,
or take a reductionist's simple approach,
and just set sail, and let the ship take broach.
i hear that, even this simplest place,
has a fancifulness that is commonplace,
and its inhabitants are not wary,
of those who twiddle and tarry.
and greet the wind harpies with unbashful abode,
and talk to sea serpents, and liches, and toads,
so casual that you can say 'sup, my naga?'
or reply with a 'kita bukan proton saga'.
for in the simple life, they talk of deep and wide things,
much like swimming pools and holes, and withered bat wings.
but, hark!, there can be no harder task than,
to find the darned place, i'll search to the end!
sigh, it's been a lifetime, and a quarter or more,
these eyes can no longer stare hard at the sore;
take away all that is, that's precious to me,
i yearn for death, for that's what it means to be free.
and maybe i'll find solace in the afterlife,and to sum it all up, i say take a gander, at what is left here to paddle and pander,
where simple things like a fiddler, can matchmake a wife;
where times, they are not always abidingly free,
ah yes, i remember 'oh ye, monetary'.
i wish for the simple life, not one with meander, at least whilst i die, of it i hope for a gander.
p/s: (maybe you think, 'man, this kid's bat-sh*t the crazy',
i hope though, that's better than being quite lazy,
like doing the dishes, sinks and refrigerators, too,
man, i've drunk too much, i need to go to the loo.)
p/p/s: no, twiddling is not an euphemism for masturbation. god. here, i'll link it so you can get your mind out of the gutters. also, yes, i've linked UNcyclopedia somewhere, it's just a joke. don't take that too seriously. ctfd.