I'm on a mission, to explain my condition,

Without permission, under submission,

Thru expression, that the recession,

Wasn't the addition, to my condition,

Don't need a politician, don't need a dietitian,

Don't need a pediatrician, to explain my condition,

My condition, Is the passion,

For the attention, and addition

Of a nonmartian, who is white, and Caucasian,

Who was part of the immigration,

From the Asian nation,

She is wishin her Profession is

Dishin out instructions, to the small fraction,

Of musicians, so that she would be making a selection,

So about this condition, my proclamation

Was first put in motion, when my eyes had the impression

From the visualization, from repetition,

That this Caucasian was a great addition

To my life, I didn't need a love potion

To be in this condition, there is no solution

For this type of pollution, this condition

Is nonfiction, nor do I need protection

 From the itching jurisdiction

To be fixin my condition