Utopia, such a deceptive word
It is not with the top you should be concerned
It is the down, down, below that matters
The dirt, bones, and blood that are our rafters
Harmony is not to be confused with beauty
Nature abounds and delights in cruelty
Every wonder must be met with tragedy
Every cure leads to another malady
That poor and desperate actor named Man
Ever playing out the script of some dreadful plan
No change to the play can be allowed
So says the whim of an unseen crowd
Play out the drama as you can
Build your Utopia with weary hands
Watch it fall as a thousand times before
And hear the theatre’s laughing roar
Oh poor actor, in pain and misery abject!
Pitiful performer, how long you have wept!
Every moment you dream, of fleeing this fate
Of escape! Escape! Escape into the waves!