Special: The Musical Erudite (for Quotidian)

My dear Papageno, I know you well.
You are the hopeful fool,
the dying sliver of Moon to scratch the ground with your desire for simple romance and its Pleasures,
heretofore unknown to one as you, the bird-catcher of the spirit world.

We're more alike than you think, bird-Catcher,
so I will offer council:
Love requires sacrifices from both halves.
Love requires a sacrifice of knowledge to gain experience,
and sometimes it hurts you horribly,
so much so your happiness is bereft for knowing it at all, that pain.

And it weighs down your stomach, so unlike the charming duet with Pamina or Papagena
and it squeezes the hard-won air from your human lungs,
and there are no happy endings, no hopeful winnings,
just blood of others on the floor and fights with your heart song
while we would tap our fingers in time with your damnable melody of bliss.

I would sing Pamina, though
to have won the hand of fair Tamino merely for her picture--ah, ah!
But you thought she wanted you,
didn't you?

You tender-hearted fool,
who searched for love!

Let the audience laugh,
I am done with you.

Yet ah, ah!
My misery,
dear, dear Papageno!
My fingers still will tap...
Pa, pa, pa!