It is this way, so the illusionist said to the one he called the magician.
The illusionist saw it no other way in the vision of the magician he seen
There was no grey ground and no questioning He had it right
And woe and before him the magician came creeping back who he viewed in a suspicious light
There was only one way of looking at her, and this way was right:
The magician was a wicked old willy.
Who happened to be a loved one gone by,
Never seen the same again,
The love he had was broken,
As the magician was seen through the illusionist’s eyes,
Never to be blown.