how many loved-less ones 

are chasing aft affection

where e'er it might be found

in the closet

on the stage

in the booby-traps that have been laid

tell me

tell me

where e'er they have hid

fear not

i shall not harm them

if we meet in the mud

nor curse the lineage of their oblations

to the slime and the grime

or imbecilic crimes

quickly

hand me the ledger with their names and fame

i wish to know them

to pass them on

in the fluidity of time

mine's a strange occupation

i know

like the strange aberrations

any one of us holds

strutting about the streets for an instant of fame

15 seconds of nothing

blown with the wind

live Life

live as best as you can

this is all that we have     in our fabled fairyland