Matted hair.

Bones in a bundle.

Wasted thin as paper.

Mad one! oh, sad one!

Road’s jest.

Town’s scare-crow.

Sitting by the gutter.

In the dust.

Strange senseless songs,

Dazed sparkless looks,

Lead to roadless forests

In your mind.

As if they have not seen,

As if you have not been,

Mad lad! the very wise people

Pass you by.

Mad one! oh, sad one!

Would you forgive, forbear

The callous injustice

Of these very wise people?

Spare us those songs, those looks.

Spare us your scorn.

Pray, bear with us yet, oh, sad one!

Mad one! Suffer us awhile.