Song of the Dreamer
There is one thing I hate,
‘Bout going to parties or mass,
There is this one incident
Which always comes to pass:
People always ask me,
“What job you’re gonna’ take?
A lawyer? A doctor?
Or one who studies ‘quakes?”
“I won’t be a doctor,
But I’ll tell you what I’ll do:
I want to be a dreamer,
‘Cause dreaming is what I do.”
“Dreaming?!” they exclaim,
“That’s not a job honey!
A job is only a job,
When it brings in gobs of money.”
“Scoff as you might,
It’s what I plan to do.
I don’t really care,
How it sounds to you.
“Though I may think differently,
Than this entire mob,
Money is one of the least things,
I look for in a job.
“I don’t care what benefits,
I get while being employed.
The only thing I care about,
Is having a job I enjoy.”
Everyone then freezes,
As though they had gone dead,
They then say “What a shame.”
As they leave and nod their heads.
I tell them “I don’t care,
If it makes you blue,
I want to be a dreamer,
‘Cause dreaming is what I do.”
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