Minstrel In The Gallery

The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces between the old men's cackle
He brewed a song of love and hatred, oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters, static-humming panel-beaters
Freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters, salaried and collar-scrubbing
And he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made

The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces in between the old men's cackle
And then he brewed a song of love and hatred, oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters, static-humming panel-beaters

The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run
And he threw away his looking-glass and saw his face in everyone
He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating one-line jokers
T.V. documentary makers, overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players, family-scarred and women-haters
And then he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made
The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run
And he threw away his looking-glass and saw his face in everyone

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
Well, he met the gazes
The minstrel in the gallery