There sits a midnight pauper with nothing much to eat
Along comes a young man; marching to his own, fine beat

The pauper raises his hand, tries to catch His attention
The young man ignores him, looking ahead (maybe into another dimension)

His eyes dreamy, His eyes glassy
Walks away from the pauper’s misery
Without so much as a thought
Drowned in his own personal reverie

The pauper keeps staring
His mouth open wide
His expression spelt amazement
His eyes terrified

For what he saw in the young man
Wasn’t as disturbing; as what he didn’t see,
Walking into the darkness,
Was just a pair of eyes, and a pair of feet.