Lightning never strikes twice unless it strikes a second time
No-one dies in perfect health unless they die just fine
Nothing will come of nothing, they say, until something does emerge
And nothing is better than nothing, they say, so let that nothing splurge
Who can treat a woman right who hasn’t first done her rough
Who can know what love is worth until they lose that love
You can cross the same river twice if you come to it again
Nothing says you take life seriously like playing it like a game
I hang out with Schrodinger, whose cat is and isn’t there
He’s as full as a ball of fluff, as empty as thin air
He’s a living not-living paradox, he tells me with a grin
That I may say both is and isn’t very him and very not him
Pillycock sat on Pillycock’s hill, but that makes little sense
How can Pillycocks really be hills while also being men?
The foul fiend Flibbertigibbet sings in the voice of the nightingale
And Nero is a fly-fisher at the lake of Dunkerfaille