Have you ever been that lonely?
You couldn't fall asleep at night.
Asking, where's my mind-at; my psyche?
Without any respite or rest insight
Asking yourself; 'Who the hell you're with? '
'I'm on my Jack Jones man - nuttin' going on.'
I couldn't be any lonelier - 'oh what pith, '
It gets-lonelier by the day, anon
Well, I'll tell you I've been that lonely,
Man - it nearly sent me mad, insane!
I've been that lonely - man - just briefly,
I've felt like kicking in the ashcan.
But a faint heart never won a maiden
O 'I'm on my Jack Jones man - nuttin' going on.'
But hope prevails to keep me from Satan
From becoming his chard fried bacon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good on that hope, Mark...