I am in a country that goes by the name Quandary,
every plant and tree comes in its own perplexity
every animal and mineral is tested by its difficulty
every word spoken, is said once, thought twice
as they address each other in complete ambiguity
it would be something Swiftian if were not a State
of mind, and it would be fun to read of indecision
shall I cross the road, should I buy the television
however when it is real, then whatever I feel
is tinged with anxiety, at the risk of your society
I could lose your company and my harmony
I would love to be elsewhere, on a beach out of reach
A paradise which is somewhere we can lunch
we can meet in happiness, and sleep in joy
If I could only get a ticket there, instead of Quandary.
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