Where is he going? What has he done? What's to become of him I wrote a speech to my dad Twenty-one pages long He twisted my jokes and swallowed their meanings I lay awake counting one, two and three, It's alright, it's alright I fell asleep Counting eight, ten and four It's okay A twelve year old math wiz Came to me in my sleep He knew all the answers Which he kept to himself He said I'd hate to be you When the big day comes The look on your face Will be priceless