Drifting fragments of havoc float listlessly along the laughter
Echoing gently through all the minute strands
As well calculated overtures of bursts of opposition
Seeking an innocent quarry to command

Disconnected vagrants, sages of confusion
Erratically whisper in your ear
To yield to all the chaos floating on the laughter
Inviting you to exist among their fear

Such skillful masters of perplexity exist as bits of havoc
Offering up confusion to us one and all
Will you listen to the whispers offered in the laughter
Or turn your head and disregard their call

These drifting bits of havoc though laughing may appear
To float listlessly without a single care
Are searching for a quarry, to sink their laughter in
A victim to exist, in their chaotic fear