So, here I sitnPen hangs forever an inch above the pagenFeels just like schoolworknThought I’d be through with all that by this agenCaffeinated ideas race to and fro I can’t catch even onenTwo hours to gonSomeone remind me that this should be fun nnI’m tired of tryingnTo express what’s not therenForming opinions worthy to sharenI’ve got things I’m thinking but why would you care?nWho am I? nn‘Cause on the ki-ki-kinda day like todaynWhen I-I-I’ve got nothing to saynI feel that my-my-my words get in the waynOf what the fi-fi-five of them are trying to playnSo please do-do-don’t pay attention to men‘Cause I’m go-go-goin’ broke lyricallynAnd if a po-po-poet’s what I wanted to benA micropho-pho-phone’s not something I’d neednC’mon! nnStill here I sitnMinutes to go and I’m losing my coolnI start to resentnAll those of you who swear by the rulenThat great rock n roll isn’t just something you pick up and playnBut great rock n roll should always have something of value to say n