I fear that I will always be a lonely number like root three
A three is all that's good and right, why must my three keep out of sight  
Beneath a 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
Has quietly come waltzing by, together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer, rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds, and with a wave of magic wands  

Our square root signs become unglued
And love for me has been renewed.