if you see a traveler with a weary load
help him before his head explodes
he may be one, he may be two
but he is more than me or you
he may be three, he may be four
he just can’t take it any more
the mayor asks him for his papers
he runs away making funny faces
they are all so many things
plunked on a million piano strings
they flow through the streets like purple gerbils
crawling over bubbling hurdles
a prophet stands in the window above
murmuring a message of love
but nobody pays him any mind
as they are all being shoved from behind
a bag lady stands on the sacred stones
a golden light pours through her bones
her words rush out in a steady stream
but nobody knows what any of them mean
i have a key to lenny’s room
if all goes well, i will see you soon
we will get to the bottom of this
we have one more chance and can not miss
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