Ode from Joyce

I think I shall never fully unwrap

A gift lovely as American chap

American chap whose mouth is pressed

Against sweet earth flowing breast

American chap who looks at God all day

And lift his bony arms to pray

To pray

An American chap who may in Summer wear

A golden nest around his neck

Upon whose blossoms other men will slay

Leaving him intimate with pain

Such is the humming way of an earnest American soul

Buried deep in books, blues, jazz, and rock 'n roll

Poems are made by fools like this English lad

Only God can make an American chap

Don't let an ocean of talent go to waste

Paintings of sorrow go to waste

Portions of emotion go to waste

Oh, don't you dare

(An ocean of talent)

Don't you let it go

(An ocean of talent)

To waste

(An ocean of talent)

Don't let it go to waste

(Talent)