Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I don't live on Drury Lane But when faced with mounds of baked goods I choose the muffin, over and over again Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I'm not a fan of change So when there are no muffins It messes with my brain I know that I'm the Muffin Man And what you might not see I find a comfort in consistency That soothes my anxiety
When the clarity of youth has faded and left you with a world view smeared in shades of grey You still carry the same values But a fear of loss Has obscured them with too many coats of gloss
(image from this article about slacktivism)
No sense of right or wrong
No concept of race
No beliefs of any kind
No team or tribe
No favourite colour (mine is green)
No spelling for colo(u)r
No expectations or aspirations
Just life for the living.
No beer, no fun No wine, no puns No whisky, no chatter No Vodka, no laughter No Bourbon, no pranks No Gin, (I never really liked gin) Never was a one drink boy Giving but never feeling joy
(image credit chaosrenzo)
Try to wear your own words Not mine But if you need some help Borrow mine for a time Words are like underpants You can wear another's But it won't feel right It is always better to wear your own or go commando.
(image by stradesgaybitch)