Now your voice has dropped, let's talk of the gift that you've got.
Move left, it's a different dimension.
Step right, it's different again, son.
Alms from up above? No, just the bent of your blood.
Move left, you're a noble inventor.
Step right, you're giving a lecture.
I put you through the wringer. I push too hard, I know.
But you're a gifted singer who's set his sights too low.
Why won't you accept it if I say it's so, given all I know?
Hear the warning bells sound out through my parallels.
Move left, a life uneventful.
Step right, I'm dying resentful.
Mine's an intellect never put into effect.
Never the industry leader, always an underachiever.
I'm qualified to make you better than your best,
the greatest of the copies, a consummate success.
Next of kin can't let you stomach something less.
Choosing to run counter to the tenor of your kind
breaks my heart to pieces as it overwhelms my mind.
Keep on as a quitter if you mean to see me cry out this all-seeing eye.
all rights reserved