We’re all truly mad to be here

I heard whispered as if in fear

Right in the middle of  the doldrum

I heard the hatter throw a tantrum

Blaming it all on, well, all the others

Like a spot of tea caught in a smother

As the gap tightened some

Kicking his feet, thinking he’d have none

After all, who would be here if as a choice

The hatter listened to his last sane voice

Unafraid to read the signs, I took it in

With the heavy duty placed on contemplating

It was easy to see feeling was more important than thinking

And that even a believing man is sometimes found drinking