There was a man in a hat
Sitting behind the happy
While everybody were glad
Nervous hands were shoulder-slapping
But I heard the teasing of reasons
Sharp arrows of light making me visible
Making my dreams and orisons
Awfully loud and feasible
I saw the whore who was brushing her hair
Her sliding fingers so anxious to obey
But the man in the hat - he could only stare
How the snow of being fell on the tray