I'm on a mission, to explain my condition,
Without permission, under submission,
Thru expression, that the recession,
Wasn't the addition, to my condition,
Don't need a politician, don't need a dietitian,
Don't need a pediatrician, to explain my condition,
My condition, Is the passion,
For the attention, and addition
Of a nonmartian, who is white, and Caucasian,
Who was part of the immigration,
From the Asian nation,
She is wishin her Profession is
Dishin out instructions, to the small fraction,
Of musicians, so that she would be making a selection,
So about this condition, my proclamation
Was first put in motion, when my eyes had the impression
From the visualization, from repetition,
That this Caucasian was a great addition
To my life, I didn't need a love potion
To be in this condition, there is no solution
For this type of pollution, this condition
Is nonfiction, nor do I need protection
From the itching jurisdiction
To be fixin my condition
