Disarm eve's paramour, Clap in desperation
I do believe in faeries, Tink, I do!
Drunk the draught and I a flighty, fickle friend
I've run and flown and fairly lost and
Blizzard beat, I've swooned. Where's Nome?
Gritted fang and footpad spread, go
Onward - give greatly, count cheaply favors
Given; value high when got, receive them
Moved, as you are, altruist of self-deceit
So row, Michael, on, hallelujah!
Dock at Callanish's port, bow
And grieve again, in toil and heartache
Health and sickness, sorrow/joy
And crossed jots, Tesla's curse and cure
Written and done by Brynner's tone
Commands me there to sway.
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