I bought a home, a bit of earth.
I felt a man, a man of worth,
And sought another by the water.
But the waterfront is a common quarter
And so I searched for rarer air.
I found that air is everywhere
And so I thought I’d buy the sky.
But no, it's ordinary to fly.
My lords and ladies, queens and kings,
They’re not for me, these common things.

Now all that’s left for me is fire.
Now all that’s left for me — a pyre.