If I should seem suspicious or you think me too reserved
To let my hair down and relax; if I make you unnerved,
Don’t get all nervous and afraid–don’t fall apart and cry–
It’s not your fault that I’m this way: I’m not a super-spy.
There’s nothing wrong or worrisome that you should fear from me;
No problem, nor is there a thing that’s not as it should be–
Unless, of course, you would include on such a list of crimes
That I lie here in wait for you, reciting silly rhymes.
My mission, I confess to you, is simply to drive mad
Each person passing near enough to hear, however bad,
Each silly and ridiculous and impish bit of verse
I can dream up and spout at you; they go from bad to worse.
The only point in all of it, and you can rest assured,
Is that my secret will get out: I’m totally absurd.