—the weight of my plan
Jingle, jangle
A mob follows me
I know their intent
—And I agree
After all, he's wasted so much
Can't believe he didn't stop that...
...woman!
That perfume!
So many could have eaten
He deserves this
He's here, right where I expected
—excellent!
I greet him
—a friendly kiss
"Swords and spears?"
Violence! An ear!
He heals
He submits
We turn, they flee
My pocket sags
—the weight of my plan
Jingle, jangle
In the distance, a rooster crows
A soul moans
Some poor wretch is guilty
Guilty?
What have I done?
"Take it back!"
Clinkle, clangle
My pocket is lighter
My heart bears a millstone
I should have spilled my guts;
Instead, I'll hang my head
—and spill my guts
Dingle. Dangle.
