Today the hour was long as we labored ourselves and oft' danced to a song-- you can't work without a little humor. The walls at the Castle continue to be overrun by thorny vines that cling and strangle. The lives it divides so easily tangle. I myself have been sentenced estrange. The Queen, it seems, has lost fodness for my er- Sheep. A Wolf, she now sees, and a strumpet is me. Ah, but I sigh, smile and say, 'tis the end of the circus, the secret charade, the end of our hiding, no more masquerade. But this day, I must say, we labored like slaves. Ah, but I smile and announce for the first, Alas I'm fulfilled of my home-craving thirst. Like soldiers of war we raged through our terf, opening and shifting, moving and cleaning, sorting and placing, bending and aching. But you heard not a moan nor whimper of pain as we opened up treasures and moved into our own. Space! Distance! Independence, Oh, Queen! Have our Rabbit, scorn my Sheep, The roof is not yours from below I do sleep. The Lady and me are seeing the light. And that, Oh, Queen, Makes this one sweet good-night.