I fear that I will always be a lonely number like root three. A three is all that's good and right, Why must my three keep out of sight. Beneath a vicious square root sign, I wish instead I were a nine. For nine could thwart this evil trick, with just some quick arithmetic. I know I'll never see the sun, as 1.7321, Such is my reality, a sad irrationality. When hark! What is this I see, Another square root of a three. Has quietly come waltzing by, Together now we multiply, To form a number we prefer, Rejoicing as an integer. We break free from our mortal bonds, And with a wave of magic wands, Our square root signs become unglued, And love for me has been renewed.
