Respect me not; I'm superficial, shallow…
My dreams are simple dreams, my thoughts are random thoughts.
And though my sky is purely blue and sun is yellow –
You search for tricks in ordinary words.
Despite the lack of grace and vivid beauty
My inner world is hardly one to touch.
I’m one of those who need a proper shooting;
Beheading would suffice as such.
You, my Jack Ketch, will rise above the crowd
Erect and willing to participate;
But I am dead already, sweet and sound...
Well, punctuality was never my best trait.