I think a thought that was a thought
But isn’t anymore.
I think the thought that is a thought
Went running out the door.
But if that thought was still a thought,
It’d be sure to bore.
And that thought is still a thought,
In it’s inner core.
I see a thing that was a thing,
But not a thing at all.
Because the thing has a name
Even though it’s quite small
Maybe I’ll rename the thing
And then give it a call
Or maybe the thing is a thing
Or maybe it’s a ball
I read a three that isn’t a three
Maybe it’s a two
Maybe it’s a five or seven
This will never do
Indecision isn’t fun
Like playing with dog poo
Maybe this is all false
Or maybe it’s all true
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