Thine father, oh he must have been a thief,
He stole the stars and put them in thine eyes.
The time I hath to live, my dear, is brief.
Hast thou not seen my missing Nobel prize?
Thou must be full exhausted, for thou hast
Been running through mine head the live-long night.
If I could change the alphabet at last,
Then "U" and "I" together would I write.
I wonder, lady, didst thou bruise thy crown,
When thou fell from heaven's lofty clime?
Excuse me, might I take thy number down?
Methinks I hath somehow misplacéd mine.
What is thy sign? Believest thou in fate?
Wouldst thou not like some raisins? Or a date?

Tags: lapsus