St. Mark's Square, pianos playing,
pigeons flutter under foot.
"Two for dinner?" hostess saying.
Winds chime in, I hear a flute.
The clock's zodiac is striking,
the concerto's to its liking.
Pisces shows on the big dial;
we might be here for a while.
Here they come, the lords and ladies.
Masquerade is in full force,
though the waitress had seen worse
daemon coming straight from Hades
laughing at us, swipes our wine
they'll bring more, we're here to dine
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