I'll leave my trace upon you
like your own witch's hex
streaked through your hair
and lingering in your charcoal eyes
I'll have my madcap moonlight way
no matter how many fiddlers
call you to a dance of wooden marchers
I'll sear your palm with an eternal scar
So all the canny Cassandras will whisper
"Ah, there goes one of the lost!
He has been visited by a vagrant solitaire
singing a moonlight sonata
he has been wheedled by a will o' the wisp
from some moonlit moor,
he has been kissed by a flickering firefly
brushed by the touch of a wild gypsy spell
he has heard the cry of a loon....
He has been loved."
Amigos para siempre