Orestes Grousing
No, don't come near.
Don't look at me that way,
needing so much. I'm not your god,
I have no grace to grant you;
let me be.
I am a very much distracted
mortal man;
I don't have time for this --
your breathing down my neck, your talk --
just get away from me.
What do you know of dreams
that keep a man awake at night,
that drive him till he's tired
with the struggle for what's right?
You wouldn't know a purpose
if you found it in the street --
you scoff, you sneer, you jest,
you drive me mad.
So go away. Get drunk. Leave me alone.
I swear I don't know what you want of me.