There was a man who walked with Sorrow
As though Sorrow were his love,
And he seemed to court her gently;
He was very well-behaved.
So, Sorrow came to live with him
In the twilight of his youth;
In the evenings she would hold him
Till he could not breathe.
'Sorrow, Sorrow, ' said he,
'This love is worth than life.'
Then he turned on the TV,
And surfed the violet wave.