It was all a dream, the good life, that we’d

always prosper and strive.

Through the thick and thin of this life, but

not all dreams come true, my peers.

I was dreaming, but it was a nightmare, you

no longer feel anywhere near.

I was hoping we could make it out of there,

and so, our tale took a turning course.

Like that of a stable deprived of its horse, or

that which the lady is without a purse.

And if that doesn’t sit right, replace ‘purse’

with ‘pulse,’ I want the best for you, and you

know that too.

And come what may, we shall prosper

through, so heart me red and I’ll sing you

blues.

Roses are red, gold is golden, diamonds are

blue. You’re amused, but none of what I said

is true.