February 18, 2009

Orpheus (Alternate Ending)

Well, it's time for the Maenads to gather again
As they do every spring on the same riverbank
They cast off their clothes, they sing and they dance,
They don't see him come shuffling by.

He shows up alone, but he's wearing a ring
He's playing with one unbroken string,
Ah, he's still got a song that he'd like to sing
If his mouth wasn't so dry.

But still, he strains his strangling throat,
Forcing out a few mangled notes,
Just a weak and weary, worn-out old goat
With a lyre that can no longer lie.

So he watches them sing, he watches them dance,
And his fingers are itching, but he's got no chance,
He's used up his turns in the game of romance,
No one even looks at him twice.

And just when he can't be any more alone,
Just before he admits his strength is all gone,
He's joined by a harnessed and horse-shod faun,
And they lay down together to die.

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