Crissing and crossing the grand ole jigsaw
An absurdly large puzzle that keeps on building
Pieces poured on the table early in the morning
Not knowing they are a part of a larger picture
They force themselves into spots that just don’t fit
They wonder why they have their bends and curls
There is certainly a place for a piece in a puzzle
But the pieces rebel and try to squeeze in harder
It really is no good for the puzzle or the piece
Some fall off the table and some get lost underneath
Eventually I hope all the pieces find the right place
I mean, what is a puzzle without all of its pieces
And what are the pieces without the whole puzzle
What a weird thing it would be to be a piece in a puzzle
What a weird thing it would be to be a puzzle with pieces
A weird thing if there were puzzles within pieces
When solved the pieces are finding their place in the puzzle
And even then what if the puzzle is never solved?
Jumbling up all the pieces for an ever expanding puzzle
And to that, I am truly and utterly puzzled
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