She wrote that as my name,
Perhaps this was some kind of game,
What she meant I cannot understand,
Is it part of some devious plan?
Jeremiad, it’s but a name,
Didn’t I treat her fair, treat them all the same?
Have I not given her opportunity all along,
I look at myself constantly and find no wrong,
I have made the world a better place for all,
Rich or poor, short or tall,
With my redoubtable reputation I will soar,
Like Icarus, reaching the sun, or more,
If she simply comes to me obsequiously,
I will praise her and listen attentively,
But I think she does not know me,
For me to be Jeremiad, just cannot be.

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