What I do, wherefore and why,
I know not and the days go by,
Here that I am, whence did I come,
Where will I go, these are just some,
Queries that I have, and forsooth,
I won't flinch in the face of the truth.
When it's play, it's just that, a game,
But done for a living, it's not the same,
By the time I knew, my days were spent,
Upon my resolve, I had to repent,
Disgraced by the Monarch, and out of spite,
I left Sangraal for the Jesuits' light.
My hand, my pride, the place I reside,
I am within and beauty outside,
What I see, I get the same,
If I lose it, I am to blame,
Strange bedfellows, my mind and me,
An empty manger, not a place to be.
