Look at him dance so meticulously across the stage,
see his arms flow in harmony above his stringed-head.
Watch his bouncing-legs move in step with the agenda,
they move his fingers with such care, flys in air
with such delicacy, they can make him smile,
manipulate his eyebrows with subtle grace,
such excitement they paint on his face.
He's such a spunky toy, a prisoner,
a boy looking to cut strings.