There is a man on the corner the brown if his trench coat spattered with drops of rain But its not raining coming closer he was gone but the details have yet to fade with him
Sadly the man said In a casual tone "The mind is a funny thing. It can produce wonders beyond my conception. Yet as with all things the scale slides both ways. If given a knife and a hand to hold, the mind will surely consume the soul."
The willow is weeping, Its Sonorous melody, plays the gallows tune. where all are still and silent. At the end of the rope the place we find When all the dancing is done