Oh, the lovely corner,

a home and friend of mine.

Oh, the lovely corner,

your comfort is divine.

Oh, the lovely corner,

what a bitter place to be.

Oh, the lovely corner,

a place to hide my dreams.

Friends, they call themselves,

yet from me they flee.

They have better places to be.

When do they call to me?

Friends, they think they are,

call only when they’re in need.

To the lovely corner I proceed,

the place of neither noise nor greed.

To be myself is my favorite thing,

even when identity is isolating.