Jasper:
Another trifling day, one more soul-stifling day of blinding pain:
Boredom grinds my brain down to the grain
A man could go quite mad and not be all that bad
Consider each superb, disturbing urge you've ever had
To curse aloud in church or choke each bloke who
Throws a smile your way
Be that as it may
A man could have bad dreams and not be all he seems
Yet not be far-removed from all the noblest of extremes
Sometimes I think that sanity is just a passing fad
A man could go quite mad
Unblessed are the dull. One ceaseless, peaceless lull
One wondrous night
Storm-struck thund'rous light
Will cast me right
A sculptor lacking arms, a sorc'ror lacking charms
A fiend who frightens no one for there's no one that he harms
Whose clutches clutch at only desp'rate respite
From this dim tableau
Knowing this is so, I hide myself in thought
Where one cannot be caught
and feed on dreams that contradicts each
edict I've been taught
And if someday I lose my way and mind
you'll find me glad
A man could go quite, man could go quite
Man could go quite mad
