I once knew a man, who knew of a girl
who heard of a butcher of whales
that nobody knows why there are those
who suffer the greatest of ails.

They seek a thing I long thought lost
but then, so did we all.
We tell them ‘He’s gone!’ ‘He’ll never return!’
But still they continue to fall.

This girl that I knew, she started to seek;
her father is still weeping for her.
I asked her why, why search for this man?
She scolded me, ‘It suffers no gender!’

And so it goes, I suppose, again and again
on their madness we all depend.
To the madhouse with them, one and all
and that I’m afraid is the end.