Independence hall
Held a formal ball
Of towering, tall,
Men.
He came upon the night
And played their favors bright
And felt so light and slight,
Then.
They kissed him fairy-way
And by the break of day
They left a man of clay,
There,
They kissed him and they stole
The small part of his soul
That was so bright and whole,
And fair --
They left him earth
Where he'd been air.
Independence Hall
Holds no more balls.