You're Imagination Can Only Go So Far

The sky's not a sky, it's a cloister,
Since I can't find my own lucky star in it.
I've heard that the world is my oyster,
But not one lousy month has an "r" in it.
Use your imagination, they say,
And life can be perfectly thrilling and gay---
Well, I got news for them:
It doesn't work that way.

I've dreamt up some mad nights of revel
On an ancient Athenian level,
And though those nights can get pretty bizarre,
Your imagination can only go so far.

I've dreamt up my own special consort
Who's the handsome and hunky Don Juan-sort,
And though it's nice when I tell him, "Don't touch!"
Your imagination can only touch so much.

Though there's fictional progression
When the facts have all decreased,
I've stopped going to Confession
For I began to bore the priest.

I've dreamt that I simply astonish
At a club that is quite Boc'Ratonish,
And though I wow all the men at the bar,
Your imagination can only wow so far,
Your imagination can only go so far.
 
 

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