I was looking forward to meeting a moose.

I'm not in a good mood friends, ya may want to find a happier clown today.
My life took a nosedive yesterday after a very pleasant breakfast my sweet Meghan quietly broke up with me.
She is a fine woman, my whole house is depressed over it, they thought they had a great new girl too.
The "sun" set for me in the morning on that Friday, I'm crying for sure.
I wasn't gonna say or write anything about this but I keep bawling everytime someone asks me where Meghan is.
I wrote this last week, it has nothing to do with my romantic life but it is real:

Who is "all" and "none?"
I thought we all were complicated.
I'm mad as a hatter it seems, I wrote a song "Fear the Poor" a Clownabilly tune that recounts a day in my brief stint as a street person or at least a time when life was hard for us in Eugene.
I was poor, hungry and homeless with a wife and kid, it took me a few weeks to get on my feet, I wrote a song about it.
Nowdays I can't bring myself to do those kind of songs because I don't like the idea of able bodied poor folks, never did, they remind me of myself before I got my shmidt together.
I won't glorify poverty anymore than I would promote smoking ciggs or feeding bears.
That kind of sucks because people love that song all over the country and when old friends come around they always want to hear it.
I would change the words to "Feed the Poor" but then it wouldn't be near as funny.
A lot of the time, I say conflicting things because I never give anyone the whole story.
I feed poor people everyday, I love people but I won't roll with able bodied folks who don't have any money, I feel bad feeding and watering myself when there is a guy waiting outside for me to finish.
I don't like strangers, I love meeting new people, I don't like taking care of children but I'm crazy when I go a day without them, I'm open, I'm closed, alone in a mob, I have performed for thousands and couldn't count the friends I have made so far, I'm rich but unemployable.
I got warts, I smell colors, I'm full of golden ideas, I make life long sacrifices for the preservation of nature yet I hate camping.
I can't spell yet I can't stop writing.
In the wrong wind I am a fascist dictator ready to choke my enemies streets with our dead, mostly I'm a sweet fella with the best of intentions.
I'm complicated...
Unfortunately (for me) I'm single again...and not in a good mood about it, I really didn't want to be.
I'm not looking for love again for a long time.