I’m not a funny person.
Besides my own dull face, there’s nothing left to this game
Behind a desk
Before I clock out of this routine
There’s not here or now
Nor when, nor how
It’s not funny
To be interested
It’s not funny
To care
And when you least expect I won’t
Hold the pen
Drive your way
Say your name
Once again
In my head or out to the blue
Once you’ve expected
Me to go home
I’ll be far away
Maybe learning once again
That I’m not really
Funny
At all.
I’m not really
Into any game.
Not at all.
