something truly great

what fills the head does not rejoice the heart
heart's satisfactions leave the mind as dead
each of us wishes we played only a bit part

the things that we imagine we can never chart
nor can we take agreement as just read
what fills the head does not rejoice the heart

our souls are bought and sold at the cheap mart
a pound of feathers balances all the lead
each of us wishes we played only a bit part

the thing that satisfies will cause no smart
in the small space between the done and said
what fills the head does not rejoice the heart

we find at the end what we found at the start
all our desire is caught twixt love and dread
each of us wishes we played only a bit part

the corpse of the slain they dump on cart
the alchemy of life turns flesh to bread
what fills the head does not rejoice the heart
each of us wishes we played only a bit part