[verse]
[female vocal, ideally]
In the glow of the morning, sunlight streaming through my room,
I find myself encumbered by a most peculiar doom.
Manicured perfection, nails like crescents gleam and bloom,
Yet when I touch the keyboard, they become my typing tomb.
[verse]
Emails and messages, they pile up high in queues,
But my nails tap a staccato, in a rhythm I can't use.
Once swift as a cheetah, now I plod like tired shoes,
All because these claws, they have their own stubborn views.
[chorus]
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
Each key's a battle in this nail-bound land.
Every word's a fight, oh, what a plight,
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
[verse]
Maybe I’ll embrace it, let the typos fall like rain,
In the comedy of errors, find a beauty in the strain.
Or perhaps I'll clip them short, return to typing plain,
Yet, for now, I’ll let them grow, and dance through this refrain.
[chorus]
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
Each key's a battle in this nail-bound land.
Every word's a fight, oh, what a plight,
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
[interlude]
[verse]
So here I am, in laughter, as the letters twist and twirl,
Living life with long nails, in a joyous, jumbled whirl.
For every misstep typing, a new adventure to unfurl,
You men will never understand the struggle of us girls.
[chorus]
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
Each key's a battle in this nail-bound land.
Every word's a fight, oh, what a plight,
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
[outro]
Why can't I type with these talons grand?
Each key's a battle in this nail-bound land.
Every word's a fight, oh, what a plight,
Why can't I type with these talons grand?