I was often moved and easily moved,
And the people laughed and the dance went on,
And the song continued and I was left alone,
In the arms of emotion.
I was often sad but who cared,
I was often mad when inquisitive stares,
In public places searched my eyes and face,
For a thing to satirize.
Iím not away,
I shine in all your shaven faces,
Whisper through the mystery of trees,
That crow carries me,
For years I drifted here and there,