to colonise this land with orphans and to contemplate suicide with a fervor that your servants so often try to imitate wrap your arms around my back wrap me up in your black flags for black is the colour and freedom is the word
and we all swing around, and we all sing about my detachment, my banishment, my vagrancy
to detach the framework of fact at the fall of the flags would you betray the revolution in me? in thought, word and deed? are you advocating betrayal? and bribing whores with diamond rings? now would you want this frail lad to bear to be king?