The horror! The horror! I cannot comprehend!

Such unholy outbursts as these that spilleth from my mouth!

And maketh me break down and cry and maketh me believe.

And maketh me see all sorts of things, like over-bloated trout.

What nonsense is this I speak, that maketh no sense at all?

I cannot comprehend it; it eludes me all the time.

And yet, and yet, I try to make it into a rhyme.

Why? I ask myself. Why do I persist?

Why must I resist the urge to blaspheme in the mist?

Why must I restrain myself from letting, letting go?

Why must I sit here and wait, forever in the snow?

What is this nonsense I speak, that maketh no sense at all?

I do not understand; nor do you; I have confused us all.

I sincerely apologize; next time, I must forget.

I have lost myself in space and time, and yet--and yet--

I do not know what nonsense it is that drives me to speak it thus.

But I must not let it continue to control me like it is.

What nonsense! The horror of it escapes me.

And now I know why I am here, talking to you like this.

I know I am not making sense, but that is meant to be.

What foul atrocities remind me of you escape me to this day.

So I must say, good-bye, olé, time for me to go away.

For I must go; I cannot stay, I cannot wait to play.

And I must leave you all today; the time has come; I've gone astray.