Mr Blue Sky, please tell us why,
I’m dancing and typing,
standing at my desk,
loaded with caffeine and to do lists,
just trying to make it through the semester,
and understand what is expected of me,

Mr Blue Sky, please tell me why,
I can be so stressed and yet,
dance so enthusiastically,
warming my winter fingers,
standing at my desk,
performing Spiderman’s jazz walk,

Mr Blue Sky, please tell me why,
now the song has changed,
and my excitement is fading,
and I’m typing slower,
it’s a music box tale of tragedy,
and I feel my heart doing ballet instead,

Mr Blue Sky, please tell me why,
I’ve hit ‘back’, repeated the track,
and with the intro,
I’m already bopping and grinning,
writing my papers and knowing that,
I’m going to be alright.