after the music has finished

i don’t want to live like common people
having tasted these strange mysteries
so long ago / reliving them year after year
every time this face appears on some horizon
a minstrel coming back into town / bearing tidings
of other places too far away to believe in
reviving dreams long since cast aside / renewed
faith in oneself and one’s abilities to make
magical things happen if only the conditions
happen to be right / perhaps they never will
and my time has come and fled once more