Thoughts...in the key of me.

nonsense

the monster under my bed is teaching me to tap dance
twirling around like the tiny ballerina in a box
but i am so clumsy
therefore i fell off my tuffet
and- being quite contrary-
i let down my long hair

my smile is too hot-
my frown is too cold-
but a blank gaze is just right
to keep me from falling too far
into the briar patch
jumping over the candlestick
who sings a French song
of waiting for love's first kiss

the slipper may fit
and i may follow that yellow road
but i seem to have left something
behind- in the looking glass with Alice

and i fear i've become a real boy.