Sing a song where your thoughts don’t string together
Rampant and archaic just like the weather
Who says the thoughts of your art have to make sense
If they try to rob you of your creativity that is an impertinence
Belt it out child no matter the cost
You are found while others are lost
Leave them in a gale of your quotation
Make them hear without hesitation
Sing your song of gleeful randomness
A ballad to your joyful uniqueness