I have no lover; I have no pet

I have no schedule; I would forget

But I have clear air, and I can see

This simple creature that must be me

I have no fortune I have to make

I have no diet that I could break

But I have good friends who will forgive

This simple creature who only wants to live

I only want to be good

And get through Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

With a modicum of pain

I only want to be good

And live through Monday, Tuesday, weekends, summers, autumns, holidays

Even if just moderately sane

No one can show me the perfect way

This simple creature should spend her day

I want a lover; I’ll handle grief

This simple creature wants clear air

And shelter

And days and days

Of something called relief