Heaven on York

sheila, sheila it’s been too long
instead of a poem i should write you a song
but tunes and beats are not my thing
and you’d die from my voice should i try and sing
but seriously dear the time must come
for me to leave fred’s and the night to be done
to crawl into my bed at long last
is all i want and i want it fast!
who is OB… we are no longer friends
our interweb relaysh has come to an end
now we’re back to where we had begun
there’s only us two, we lost the other one
i’m trying to make this as long as poss
cause i want to avoid my job and my boss
but sheila dear if you get the chance
do something please to entertain my pants
get your head out of the gutter i meant my face
please take my mind off this stupid boring place…
i guess i’m done with whining and crying
when i said i quit i was …actually lying
i can’t do that and you know it too
especially if i’m going to pay for bonnaroo
so wait up for me or don’t i don’t care
but in the morning just know i’ll be there
see you soon no need to wake
but just know i might still give you a shake…