If it were within our power,
  beyond the reach of slavish pride.
  To no longer harbour grievances,
  behind the mask's opportunists facade.
  We could welcome the responsibilty
  like a long lost friend,
  and re-establish the kingdom of laughter
  in the dolls house once again.
  For time has imprisoned us
  in the order of our years,
  in the discipline of our ways
  and in the passing of momentary stillness
  we can view our chaos in motion
  and the subsequent collisions of fools
  well versed in the subtle art of slavery.