So limp I were
Burlesque on the fore
Sore in the core-
Heaven fell
So, on this earth
I am a walking-chore.

Thank you, Eve dear
And the serpent
You gave me a goal-
A goal to fall
Fall, fall and crest-fall
Crest-fall and crest-fall
And glimpse of hope
To stand and tread
Firmly, on the ground ahead.
What the heaven there were
Where I would miss all this
And wander naked aimless,
A puppet?

What a wonder
To get life yonder
Due to a mighty hunger
Of her to raise
And me to raise
My steps on and on
Not in the command of his
But of mine own
Puppet is commander
Commander is puppet
It is here
Nowhere else but here
I walk therefore
A walking -chore!

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