| 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 |