I find you in a pattern,
With a very simple repeat:
One, two, one, two, and do it again.
I think you're really neat,
Until you want to shake up things,
And add a layer on top,
With no real thought about it, other than,
To make it something it's not.
Not to say that it can't be something,
To make me think and wonder at,
The majesty and mystery of your mind,
Though it goes no further than that,
Which is alright,
Though it has nothing to do with you.
God, why can't you just stick with the simple,
That makes you so beautiful?
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