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