Tim Vesely
Someone keeps repeating what I say
One hundred years before it's said
It doesn't make me feel good
That same someone scored a goal
When I put the puck in the net
And I'm still shut out while he's leading the league
Who?
Is this someone?
I find out, I'll make him pay
Meanwhile, I will patent all my moves
I'll write them down here in my book
I'll have a record there
Hey there! Mr. Justice
I have brought unto you a book
In which I document myself in many ways
"Hey there! Mr. No One
I have recognized this writing as my own
And you have forged it as your own."
Who?
When I get out of forger's prison
I will be on record as having done
Something on my own
I'm looking slightly less than visible today
I think and therefore I am enslaved
My little book of verse is words and thoughts of ages
Of accidents like me
Someone keeps repeating what I sing
One million years before it's sung
Well, it doesn't make me feel good
Who? Who? Who?