Look at the thyme, and you'll know what I'm on.
Listen, this rime isn't all that far gone.
You see, I'm the type who is ripe for nitpicking.
So though some things grow, if your fingers are sticking,
go lick each one thick to the quick and the bone.
That's all. Please don't ever call me on the phone,
because I might pause for the cause of your calling,
as if I could lift all your spirits. I'm balling
and falling appallingly over myself,
as if my small gift had a place on your shelf.
Myself, as I'm speaking, I'm seeking to find
a peaceful release for this odd state of mind.