The hair on my face is growing long
It itches so I scratch it
The rain outside is the spring’s song
We use buckets to catch it
The clicking keyboard is interrupted
By dashing attempts to try
And make money flow disrupted
Into my wallet, so dry
I need more green in my life
To feel thick grass on my hand
Cut flat fields with a knife
As my skin becomes tanned
I want to have a perfect meal
That my mom makes nightly
Eat until I cannot feel
Then excuse myself politely
It might be Ohio that I’m craving
But its ok, cuz I’m shaving.