I have a little life on my shoulder,

He’s a little green man who sees my second world,

A little green man who sits and watches and loves.

My green man sits on his purple house,

Watching and loving.

I sit in disarray, 

pens and papers splayed,

And there he floats upon his purple house,

Spectating adoringly, unsparingly,

He wouldn’t ask a thing of me.

To him, I’m known and so I am loved.