I can split the gears and I can split the years My life is made to please others Trying to be a poet will drive me to tears. My reason for being here is not quite clear as I short the day just like my brothers. I can split the years and I can split the gears. Vivid dreams of the white tailed deer, Long cold nights under these covers. Trying to be a poet will drive me to tears I don't wish to be in front of the jeers. Poetry can make one feel smothered. I can split the gears and I can split the years. Out of place in this atmosphere I wish I were a linguisseteur Trying to be a poet will drive me to tears It's difficult not to oversteer skill is sometimes undeserved. Trying to be a poet will drive me to tears I can split the years and I can split the gears.