I have tried to tell of my love for you,
But I cannot find the words.
So I say:
X squared plus seven X plus 2
Minus eleven thirds
Minus eleven thirds.
Other poets sing of the skies so blue
And the love songs of the birds.
But I say:
X squared plus seven X plus 2
Minus eleven thirds
Minus eleven thirds.
To haute compare thy beauty,
What standard could I give
Except an unevaluated function,
Non-derivative?
But the simple song that I give to you
Is devoid of signs and surds.
It's simply:
X squared plus seven X plus 2
Minus eleven thirds
Minus eleven thirds.
For when I see thy beauty,
The soul within me stirs,
And then I sing in wild equations using
Variable integers.
But the answer's simple as two plus two.
I must join the common herds.
As they say:
X squared plus seven X plus 2
Minus eleven thirds
Minus eleven thirds.
