You say I have to get a real life,

but I'm not sure how that in making someone

or other rich is any more real than making a riche for yourself.

I'm without a zack, a truth, a coin,

a kopeck or an elusive brass razoo.

But my dear rationalist, don't dream I couldn't care.

I too grow quickly bored of the clothes I wear.

So maybe I should go an get a real life,

real like cutting a fine figure

or scraping a deposit together for it, heaven forbid.

Just suppose I cannot live on taxes and goodwill forever.

But how is it that the problem just doesn't seem to press

while my fingers are themselves pressing hard against the neck?

I was sure that I suffered

and worked as hard as anyone I knew . . . well it seems I haven't.

I better damn well fix and make it look every inch as though

I do but still have to go and get a real life

and I've no doubt that it will happen.

Maybe I've put it off for too long now,

gonna see if I can't get something better than a . . . .

Maybe I'm amidst of a real life . . . .