On the off chance that I could let you know
Why I'm so dubious
I would readily unburden
My heart and yours.
In any case, it appears we have been
Down this street previously
With every one of its turns
Furthermore, turns.
All things considered, you take me places
Where I'd never go
Like an off-base turn
On a 12 PM street;
We'll get the opportunity to see the Moon,
You grin
What's more, tsk at me
While I seethe.
Sartre was correct,
I'm an en-soi
Be that as it may, at that point he thought
Others were hellfire…
So what does he know?
What does anybody
On the edge of insensibility
Think about anything?
As the elderly person said
In Place Pigalle,
I don't have any acquaintance with—you don't have the foggiest idea,
So what does anybody know?
What's more, that, my Love,
Is the reason I'm dubious,
What's more, I'd let you know whether I could
To facilitate your weight
