He dances with dames and dresses all
Donning the tuxedo to shame the penguin
Whisping in mystery in coattails around.
He's the talk of tycoons, bumble of business
His scalp itches with flakes of gold.

Above his pristine he is true genuine
Motives pure with a smile of pearls
His benign benevolence abounding in love
A voice of warmth, soothing and true
Many a hand will lie upon his chest.

And even upon conclusion of clamber,
This mask remain affixed upon him.
Jealousy overwhelmed the raccoon at sight,
For the drive of desire for his mask
Runs parallel to seeking honor of a medal.

Yet when the moon is nigh at repose
This masked man, the valiant benefactor,
Dares to die and dance with the devil
And be consumed with torment in dreams
Waking to don the mask, hiding again.