It may be boring... to you.
It may not make sense... to you.
It may be the WORST thing that ever happened to mankind... to you.
Well let me tell you what it is to me.

My fingers cramp.
My brain works up a storm.
My ink runs out of my pen
as it persistently slams down on the blank piece of paper.

My thoughts bloom.
My dreams become something written on paper.
My dreams become true each time I put the last
Three digit number on that piece of paper.
My ordinary dreams become extraordinary
Dreams.

I know, sounds lame right?
Well do I say throwing a ball across
A muddy field is appalling?
No, I nod my head and keep walking.

Do I say kicking a ball
Across a wide grassland is terrible and painful
Considering the player gets kicked more than the ball?
No, I nod my head and keep walking.

Do I say that putting your lips on a trumpet
Filled with germs is unhealthy and disgusting?
No, I nod my head and keep walking.

So who are you to judge me on the things
That interest me and tell me that it disgust you?
Who are you to tell me there's no point?
What's the point of what you do?
Why should I get kicked in the joint?
Why should I run down the field with a ball?
Because I surely don't like that at all.

And I know you may be asking...
Who am I to criticize the things that you do?
Who am I to say that I don't like it that way?
Who am I to show that I know that you know
That you don't nod your head and keep walking?
Well, I'm the person who's tired of the talking.
But I'll still be the person who nods my head and keep walking.