The climbers sit and laugh at me upon their pedestals for wasting precious time on pious hopes A puerile, timid slouth who seized not moment, chance nor day Thus never learn'd to use or know the ropes I wish I'd last at least thro' a millenia that I may come of age before grown old Or live thousand lives, thousand ways to find the 'Philosopher's stone' amidst fools gold Misunderstood I have stripp'd and desert'd from uniformed soldiers I don't understand The Jack-of-all-trades hath no Jill to trade with A pinion robb'd robin from lochs, leas's bann'd When I be fain to toil in tears and sweat jaunty and willing To pay the baillif my collection-debt with every shilling When but a ruskcrumb is left in the larder still I have to say grace And gain in my bedpost a notch seems harder than wrinkles in my face then… fetch me a map from science to fiction, preternatural compass to guide me Will o' the Wisp come light my way I've been lost and gone astray Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd - a labyrinth I roam Light me a lantern spark'd and fann'd, a stranger in a stranger land I'm without purpose, tool and faith, come show me my way home Any simpleton would grasp the nettle tho' he's surely stung But then again all hell is full of fools A lonely shepherd come home shorn since gone for that he lost Thus left his sheep, stay'd home and gather'd wool I yearn'd to make the most of youth and childhood, now dying, trying to catch up with time One day I'll be gone, this I still cannot figure With such a sentence is life my crime? Unappreachiated I've search'd for my Judy only to find one to many a punch A dove in a battle makes like fish a nice kettle With olives as first course they'll have fowl for lunch I'm the exception that proves the rule - 'sui generis' The prodgigal son of a different school, the blackest sheep there is The pagan 'mongst christians, to fillies a dark horse (Before the storm I flee...) A settler 'midst migrants, thy rebel without cause (...when others have their tea) Fetch me a map from science to fiction, preternatural compass to guide me home Tapster come bring me an ale It be my 'Holy Grail' to soothe my thespian wail Creed I've court'd with Venus till'd pastures for Pan Drunk health bacchanalian time and again To tired to hunt for a faith that is fit 'Acedia' mine 'idol' hath not help'd a wit In My Darkest Closet My closet hath no skeletons to upbring, yet plenty of other mysterious a thing Conspiciuous by absent tho' Narnia be, when lock'd in with ease the harder to flee To find peace of mind I hide from the war that rageth outside the door Will o' the Wisp come light my way I've been lost and gone astray Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd - a labyrinth I roam Will o' the Wisp come light my way I've been lost and gone astray Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd - a labyrinth I roam Light me a lantern spark'd and fann'd, a stranger in a stranger land I'm without purpose, tool and faith, come show me my way home I'm without purpose, tool and faith, Will o' the Wisp show me home!