Wearily wondering, suddenly single,
not too perturbed but unwilling to mingle;
someday perhaps I won't be so alone,
but until then I'll go my own way.
Don't ask me why and don't say you're sorry,
it's my life and I don't want you to worry;
I haven't done wrong for which to atone,
and I haven't got anything more now to say.
I cannot imagine a worse kind of life
than living each day in domestic strife,
to stare back and forth with faces of stone,
and the best we can say is, Havva nice day.