Tom: A
A E
This letter you get it, you burn it, forget it
D
It's not what I meant to say
E
You might think me a scapegrace
A
Really a fugitive in decay
E
I exist here on an acre of nature
D
In the diminutive
E
But I'll be thinking of you, I would wager
A
My favorite hypocrite
You are a master of the commerce of friendship
So I put all of my feathers on
I wrote you this letter, I send it
And this foul weather is gone
Of your last words to me I am thinking
And of the depth of your eyes
But you can't halt the profound shrinking
Of this, my porcelain life
If axed that I reject your protection
Well I abhor captivity
I want to live alone in my little section
So very wild and watery
How to preserve my own mistaken perfection?
Oh you refine vulgarity
I want to tenuously ask this question
Out of a census for clarity
You are a master of the commerce of friendship
So I put all of my feathers on
I wrote you this letter, I send it
And this foul weather is gone
Of your last words to me I am thinking
And of the depth of your eyes
But you can't halt the profound shrinking
Of this, my porcelain life
