What a Don Quixote day,
lowering my lance and charging ahead,
tilting at the windmills of my sin,
clods flying from thundering hooves,
war cries and protests,
and the sound of blades slicing through the air,
and all this violence to slay dragons that aren't really there.
And all along the gallant thing would be to get off my horse,
sit down,
and see things as they really are.