Stop telling me what to do.

Push, pull, or get out of the way,

Don’t throw things from the sidelines.

Don’t play games with me, mess me about.

I don’t aim when I pitch, I see the target and throw,,

Letting my body adjust on its own.

Holy flapjacks,

This is not a time in my life for coaching from the sidelines,

For strange tasks laid on me like a party game.

Get in her and lift this beam out of my eye

Do not scatter specks and call them glitter.

Don’t tell me what to do.