His eyes are brilliant and blue,
His hair's of glimmering gold.
His mystery has no clue:
Though he's getting old,
His charm is beyond his age.
He is always virile and strong...
The whole world is a stage,
And he acts for the wondering throng.
His eyes, expressive and clear,
Can speak volumes of love;
He seems to be near and dear,
And virtuous like a holy dove.
But his sneer, cold and spiteful,
Makes people avert in disgust.
His crimes can be really frightful,
And he's so repulsive in lust...
He dies in his negative roles
And revives to be good again.
And people with all their souls
Can feel his joy and his pain.
He will never get really old,
And no one will find the clue...
His hair's of glimmering gold,
His eyes are brilliant and blue.