I fear that I will always be
A lonely number like root three,
If three is all that's good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight?
Beneath the 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.
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer.
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed.

Harold and Kumar