Was it real, or was it just an infatuation?
That's the question he asks of the whole situation,
He looks to be such a sad case, but then aren't we all out of place?
And there he was trying so hard, to be the bard of the backyard.
Was it real, was it just reproductive instinct?
In a showdown with loneliness it seems that he blinked,
And then the suspicions set in, it's over before it begins,
Contortions that some will go through, to get rid of three drops of glue.
In a straight jacket made out of etiquette,
He was left in his misery it seems, and yet,
He'd probably said far too much, once all of his courage was Dutch,
They left him there on a slow burn, to teach him what he had to learn.