Ode From Joyce

I think I shall never fully unwrap A gift lovely as American chap American chap whose mouth is pressed Against sweet earth flowing breast American chap who looks at God all day And lift his bony arms to pray, to pray An American chap who makes some wear A golden nest around his neck Upon whose blossoms other men will slay Leaving him intimate with pain Such is the humming way of an earnest, the American soul Buried deep in books, blues, jazz, and rock 'n roll But once some made by fools like this English lad Only God can make an American chap Don't let 'em know, chin up darling, don't do it Paintings of sorrow go to waste Oceans of emotion go to waste Oh, don't you dare (An ocean of talent) Don't you let it go (An ocean of talent) To waste (An ocean of talent) Don't let it go to waste (Talent)