A/N: yah, I know this is kinda bizarre, but I'm proud of this poem. Tell me whatcha think!
I am a simple muffin man Who lives on Drury Lane. But do you know my agony, Discouragement, and pain?
You ask the simple question 'Do you know the muffin man?' But what about 'is his hair green?' Or 'does he drive a van?'
But no one knows or answers, For you see, I have no friends. And no one knows that deep inside, The pain just never ends.
For, truth be told, My muffins aren't the greatest company. They've never brought me pizza, Or asked me out to tea.
But worst of all, My muffins have a nasty attitude. Corn muffins are sarcastic, And the crumb cakes, They're just rude!
The bagels are plain bitter, While the dishes occupy Themselves by pouring coffee Onto helpless apple pie.
Why couldn't I be a waiter? It would surely be great fun. I could wait tables at Chili's, Friendly's, Pizzeria One.
And now you know the muffin man. My life just ain't that great. I'm bored, I'm stressed, I'm tired, And I really need a date.
I am a simple muffin man, Who lives on Drury Lane. And now you know my agony, Discouragement and pain.
( I wasn't kidding about that needing a date part. Someone between the ages of 30 and 40, preferably blonde. Call any bagel shop in your area and ask to speak to the head of the Limp Biscuits. That's me!)