I see an old man who does not speak. I wonder what vampire stole his voice. Is his breath next? I bet he was a poet once. Who is to tell, not he nor I. I see a young lady with the mind of a child. I have no idea if she is cursed or blessed. I have nothing but charity for her. I see a soulless one who has no grace. What can I think of him; save only God knows. Then borrowed deep like a dung Beatle I see me. Bound down ya...