I contain multitudes

After performing Prokofiev, I sing with Stevie Wonder,

And symphonies cause me more tears than any sappy movie will.

My stomach rumbles for roasted red peppers as much as some fried fatty food,

And aches after ice cream, but how could I refuse?

Dry humor is preferred over a saturated laugh track,

And nothing is more satisfying than the crack of my back.

My best wishes go to environmentalists, but paper straws always ruin my drink,

And my best thoughts occur in the shower, and a piece of paper will make my mind go blank.