Raak set the precedent above, so here is a sonnet. I recently had lunch with someone who amuses herself sonnetising popular songs, and I thought I would take on the challenge.
(Is it not rich?) And if I sound resigned (Are we a pair?) I'm grounded; you're unmoored. (Is it not bliss?) This is what fate designed: (Don’t you approve?) One flying; one who’s floored.
At last I'd closed the doors of past desire And opened yours with one speech to profess But you’d left for another lover's fire— The poets call this irony, I guess.
(Don’t you love farce?) The dreams that we’d ignored (My fault, I fear) I thought were now aligned. (Is it not rich?) My timing, though, was flawed; (Is it not queer?) Ah well, then—never mind
The jaded exits, faded evening gowns... Just strike the set, my dear. Send in the clowns.
Hidden textI can't decide if 'Just strike the set and then deploy the clowns' would be a better final line. Substitute it if you prefer. :)
My dear mother said "Use your brain" "Don't drive all that way. Take a train." So I took her advice (I don't need telling twice) And now I'm doing 15 years in Wandsworth for grand larceny, operating a locomotive without a train driving licence and the kidnapping of one train driver, four conductors, 83 passengers, four dogs and a budgie named Jane.