Lyrics

The aged catch their breath, For the nonchalant couple go Waltzing across the tightrope As if there were no fear of death Or hope of falling down; The wounded cry as the clown Doubles his meaning, and O How the dear little children laugh When the drums roll and the lovely Lady is sawn in half. O what authority gives Existence its surprise? Science is happy to answer That the ghosts who haunt our lives Are handy with mirrors and wire, That song and sugar and fire, Courage and come-hither eyes Have a genius for taking pains. But how does one think up a habit? Our wonder, our terror remains. Art opens the fishiest eye To the Flesh and the Devil who heat The Chamber of Temptation Where heroes roar and die. We are wet with sympathy now; Thanks for the evening; but how Shall we satisfy when we meet, Between Shall-I and I-Will, The lion's mouth whose hunger No metaphors can fill? Well, who in his own backyard Has not opened his heart to the smiling Secret he cannot quote? Which goes to show that the Bard Was sober when he write That this world of fact we love Is unsubstantial stuff: All the rest is silence On the other side of the wall; And the silence ripeness, And the ripeness all.