Verse after silly verse
In that sad melody
Of my inner voice
Of which I only seem
To be able to sing
In constant repetition
Would it endear me
Like the tiny green tree frog?
Would they paint my picture
On the boards by their front door?
Would they scream and have me arrested
And make me take my medication?
The one that takes the song out
And make the silly words sound dull,
For am I not that frog, the quiet one
Dull and brown and silently waiting
For a bug for a meal?