i could describe the good old days
with precision and with charm
but i have a problem
nobody gives a good gosh darn
i don’t know why they should
the world has spun many times
gods and peasants come and go
no one remembers their crimes
or remembers their heroic deeds
or if they ever existed
i didn’t want to write this poem
but you insisted
what was that?
i must have misunderstood
then i leave you with this thought -
people are bad, they should be good
outside the sun is shining
but some think it might rain
tomorrow is another day
shall we meet again?
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