truth is the lowest form of human freight

it does not seem to have the taste of air

nor are we certain it will bear much weight

no man nor woman ever seems to care

just how things look in the hot tropic glare

nothing much matters we just have to please

the angry critics and late attendees

who may demand the whole thing be reset

or treat our words as symptoms of disease

since there is no pure language of regret

 

what's left behind is nothing we could hate

just rules and regulations mostly fair

requiring we be done by a due date

so that there is a little time to spare

before we hear the last horn's angry blare

then put our tools down and bid all to cease

in swift agreement with the high degrees

knowing that there are needs yet to be met

but all our duty then will be to freeze

since there is no pure language of regret

 

the game is ending in one more fool's mate

just one more blundering youthful affair

nothing to bother those high in the state

nor would the general public be aware

of yet another private small despair

there's not one thing that could ever increase

the civic joy or add a single piece

of sorrow that would make the people fret

so tongue's held silent by the mind's police

since there is no pure language of regret

 

princess you watch as all the refugees

from the last war petition for your peace

insisting that you owe them all a debt

you think your choice is guided by caprice

since there is no pure language of regret