I sit here now trying to devise a rhyme,
to describe how my work has suddenly shifted its paradigm,
but it's like sucking on a lime,
so far from sublime,
but listen to me, trying to rhyme my whine...
Tis clear, I need my peas,
a good suck'll cheer me,
and as quick as one, two, three,
we'll be good friends again, my work and me
To the mighty salamander I say,
dance on the fire, in the fire, but please...
don't ever retire.