Not mine, actually, although I probably do have a leaky one somewhere. No, this is the opening of the second verse of the wonderful John Prine's song Dear Abby:

Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
My fountain pen leaks,
My wife hollers at me,
And my kids are all freaks.
Every side I get up on,
Is the wrong side of bed,
If it weren't so expensive,
I'd wish I were dead.
Signed,
Unhappy.

I was thinking about John Prine again after reading the NYT piece on him, and so I thought I'd share this verse with you.