Sometimes, I get the feeling that those people who surround me
Are dumber than me
I sometimes feel as if people disapprove
Even if it is the truth
And they they think I just can't say to someone:
"I'm smarter than you."
I, by far, dislike the people who for this reason
Could call me arrogant or conceited
And it seems quite obvious that others can't see it:
There's this one... person I'd know
Who for reasons that I'd rather not want to go
into I would give any amount of money to be able to say
One thing without judgement:
"You're a moron."
See, I can't do this unfortunately
Because, you see
All of the complications that there would be
But mostly, I am apprehensive
I mean I could just beat him, or be beat senseless
But he's friends of friends of mine
And that would probably be reckless
So it is in my mental capacity
That I must best him, which is a possibility
Because he acts always moronically.
But there's the problem here
And at the risk of sounding like Ferrara here:
I can't speak well, d'you hear?
I have wit, of course I do
But... I stumble over sentences on occasion, yes it's true
And in the midsts of verbal jousting there is no guarantee that my mouth will do
What I tell it to. And
There is the problem that
Despite my intellect I might not get
The correct sequence of words needed to win that argument.
And of course
I might anger one of my friends
For daring to show dissent
To a judging terrorist atop a moral Everest
Who could have lead a Reich if was less short, probably for the best
As I could doubt his middle class mind could survive the test
Of trying to sustain anybodies interest
For long enough to me to show I am the best
At besting those though he looks smart and I a mess.
And this does cause for those to guess
That the moronic one is me.