Tirade of the barber

“BARBER - I can’t take it anymore.
He’ll kill me, he’ll kill me.
Where do I carry them?
In my head, in my stomach, in my intestines In black agony, the furry creature
I touched my palms and his ears smeared on my palms through my skin.
They become a pair of caves in my dream
they pull me through their windings
drowned in strange echoes,
whereas I can be burdened with a ballad:
(as if singing a folk song)
MI-DAS’ EE-AAARS
Ahh did anyone hear?
If I tell one person,
and he doesn’t tell anyone? And then he doesn’t tell anyone.
and he doesn’t tell anyone, and he doesn’t tell anyone.
if no one told anyone, if no one knew?
Oh, it would kill me, it would kill me.
I’ve become like this because I kept Midas’ secret.
What if I kept the secret of the black messengers?
The witches of fate?
Ooof, I must vomit Midas’ ears
and to this day, it’s been aching inside me
I carry them with a black pain
I’m drooling. This well will do.
(As he bends down into the well, a goat runs out of it)
Uh, what’s that?...I promised, but I promised Midas on my honor.
I gave my word so the goats would lick my soles.
This well will do.
(He bends down and calls into the well. The sounds of the well echo with a hum)
Oooooooo, Oooooooo, Oooooooo
How the well echoes. It’s alive. It hears me.
But it doesn’t say, it hears me, it can't say
Heeey, heeeey. Ooooo. It’s a big ear, this well.
It can hear me, but it can’t tell me. Ooooo. How does the well echo?
Then hear, well, hear echo, echo, echo, echo
Hear it to the depths of seven layers of hell
Hear, well, hear. Oooo, Midas’ ears are donkey ears
Donkey ears
Midas’ ears are donkey ears
Midas’ donkey ears
Donkey ears of Midas

Midas’ ears are donkey ears
Midas’ ears are donkey ears!”