I have tried to tell of my love for you, But I cannot find the words. So I say: X squared plus seven X plus 2 Minus eleven thirds Minus eleven thirds. Other poets sing of the skies so blue And the love songs of the birds. But I say: X squared plus seven X plus 2 Minus eleven thirds Minus eleven thirds. To haute compare thy beauty, What standard could I give Except an unevaluated function, Non-derivative? But the simple song that I give to you Is devoid of signs and surds. It's simply: X squared plus seven X plus 2 Minus eleven thirds Minus eleven thirds. For when I see thy beauty, The soul within me stirs, And then I sing in wild equations using Variable integers. But the answer's simple as two plus two. I must join the common herds. As they say: X squared plus seven X plus 2 Minus eleven thirds Minus eleven thirds.