Sweet Medea, I can see
Passion's cast a spell on me.
People think that it is strange,
That I should want you near.
You ripped your brother limb from limb
And never shed a tear.
As we seek the golden fleece,
Eternal love, and lasting peace,
We worship gods; we flee the king;
We feast and make good cheer.
We pray to be re-membered
In a million, billion years.