| It was late one fall night at a fairground near town | 
| When Esther first saw the Armenian man | 
| Who groveled toward her and stood by her side | 
| With a bucket that swung in his hand | 
| His grin stretched the folds of his pasty white cheeks | 
| And his lips hurled a dollop of murk on the curb | 
| And the lights from the rides showed a mischievous sparkle | 
| That flashed in his hollow eyed stare | 
| He said «Little girl, you can chop off my legs | 
| And then peel off my socks if you want to | 
| But I’d rather you took this old puppet from me | 
| That I hold in my pail as we speak» | 
| And he stood looking down at the innocent girl | 
| And she stared at the bucket bewildered | 
| Til he lifted the doll for the young girl to see | 
| And a giant smile grew on his face | 
| She saw the doll’s eyes and she couldn’t resist | 
| And she thanked the man quickly and ran to the church | 
| And she burst through the door with puppet held high | 
| And a hush filled the chapel, and the people looked mean | 
| Esther tried in vain to pacify the mob | 
| Quibble grew to spat, to wrangle, then to brawl | 
| The frenzied congregation struggled desperately to fetch | 
| The pretty puppet snugly nestled deep in Esther’s leather sack | 
| Through the window of the church a storm began to rage | 
| And Esther knew the time had come to flee | 
| She scurried down the aisle toward the doorway in the distance | 
| And out into the rainstorm where she felt she would be free | 
| But the wind was blowing harder | 
| And her skirt began to billow | 
| Until finally her feet began to lift | 
| And she rose above the people and the houses | 
| And the chimneys | 
| And Esther and the doll were set adrift | 
| Floating higher over the hills, and the valleys and treetops | 
| They’d flutter and glide | 
| Soaring and turning suspended on air | 
| With the earth far below them they’d tumble | 
| And dive through the clouds | 
| And she began to plummet earthward till she | 
| Landed in the nasty part of town | 
| She glanced about the village sure to find the evil men | 
| Who rob and pillage in the darkest hour of night | 
| Nervously she fumbled for the pouch that held the | 
| Puppet on her rump | 
| Feeling quite outnumbered Esther hid behind | 
| A nearby pile of lumber, where she waited | 
| Till the dawn | 
| Cause it would have been a blunder to | 
| Succumb to a hoodlum on the prowl | 
| When the morning came, she wandered through the streets | 
| Along the chilly lake that lay beside the town | 
| At last a peaceful moment, but she thought she heard a sound | 
| It was an angry mob of joggers coming up to knock her down | 
| As Esther stood and shook her head | 
| The joggers were approaching | 
| And she knew she had no choice left but to swim | 
| As the frosty water sank its bitter teeth into her hide | 
| She tried to slide the heavy clothing from her skin | 
| Naked now she made her way toward the shore | 
| When suddenly she felt a tiny tugging at her toe | 
| And the puppet she’d forgotten wrapped its tiny | 
| Little arms around her ankle and wouldn’t let her go | 
| The waves seemed to open and swallow her whole | 
| As the doll pulled her down through the eerie green deep | 
| And the sound of the laughing old man filled her ears | 
| As she drifted away to a tranquil | 
| And motionless sleep |