What am I doing here?
Its three o clock in the morning.
I should be asleep, in bed, like a good girl.
But instead, I stay awake, to write this poem for you.

I wish I could be an ice skater.
But everytime I try to skate,in stead of soaring in smooth circles, I soar to my rear.
I wish I could be a gymnast.
But I can't make a handstand.
I wish I could be a spy.
Wouldn't it be great to be able to have everyone who underestimates me learn that I have a double life?
But I can't walk without creaking the floorboards.
So what can I do?

I can sit here at three o clock in the morning.

Or, my friend, we can take a drive in my station wagon down fantasy road.
I know my wheels are flat and I'm almost out of gas, but I need a companion and nobody else will come.
And maybe,
who knows,
you might bring with you some fuel to keep me going.