Well, I passed you up in years,
Now I’ve grown up and you’re…just you.
College kid, working out and beer,
Something old but still something new.

You sang a song of being rich,
And gazed with compassion’s own eyes,
Then just before you left to ditch,
I asked within for your surprise.

And then three years came back to me,
And I laughed at my foolish self,
Through Gaga and politic glee,
I’d peer and find the hidden shelf?

Yes, you said in self prophecy,
But maybe I waited too long,
Despite our battle will you see,
What I’ve been saying all along?

We’ll see, say I, you haven’t come,
And you must do so to be one,
For I refuse to not be won,
Though i may not go if you do come.

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