Light is reigning down in plunging coverlets of gold
around the cradle.
Someone passed a bowl of blood-thick soup among the group;
where is the ladle?
I am here in Bethlehem. I was dragged along by them.
I have gone to much expense purchasing this frankincense.
But no one seems to care if I exist.
If I slipped away would I be missed?
I don’t know why everyone’s gone wild
over some damned ring around this child.

I got the wise man blues again.
Two guys woke me up at ten.
Had to give my camel water;
had to leave my wife and daughter;
follow some star to the savior.
I’m not used to weird behavior.
Wound up here amongst these strangers;
I don’t often frequent mangers.
Guess it happens every now and then.
I got them wise man blues once again.