Anna Wickham imagines spending just a day and a night in a “rigorous land” where everything is right—ordered, strict, correct. Then she would come back to a “leisurely land where everything’s wrong” and sit down to make a song. The contrast is the key: perfection is appealing to visit, but it is not where art feels at home. The speaker does not want to stay in the perfect place forever; a short dose is enough. The flawed, relaxed world is where she belongs and where song-making happens. The mood is wry and quietly knowing, with a touch of longing. It suggests that creativity feeds on looseness, mistakes, and human messiness rather than on flawless order. A perfect world might be admirable, but it would leave a song-maker with nothing to sing about.
The Song-Maker — Summary
I WOULD live for a day and a night, In the rigorous land where everything's right.
Then I would sit and make a song, In the leisurely land where everything's wrong.