When I’m fully engrossed in Dickens,
Montgomery, Farley, or Defoe;
When I'm at the site of a shipwreck,
Or in the midst of a romance of love and sorrow.
Oh! How I hate to be interrupted!
Whether it a tap on the shoulder or a loud shout.
Pay attention! Do your work!
Close that book! Take the trash out!
It’s like hitting my thumb with a hammer,
It’s the screeching sound of nails on a blackboard;
It’s being doused with a pail of freezing water,
It’s a singer whose notes clash in discord.
To all you book lovers out there in the world,
You know why I sulk, I bellow, I shout;
If only there was such thing as a book,
Whose door we could enter and never come out.
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