NOTE: When Jekyll becomes Hyde, there is no physical transformation and it is merely psychological phenomenon.


Perhaps there is something vile,

About the way that I look at a person's back.

Perhaps there is something terrible,

At the way that I mull over this evil fact.

Perhaps I am wrong,

For all these dark passions that I so long.

Perhaps I am bad,

And require myself to be at least a bit sad.

Guilt, remorse, saying that I am sorry?

Terror at how I pursue my own quarry?

Can I feel such a thing, really can I?

I swear I do, really I can cry.

An edge to my game,

Fear for who I make lame.

Knowledge of that creep in my step,

Shame for all the secrets I have kept.

I do not feel it much, oh no,

But I can feel it some, oh yes.

I can do something other than grin and tear and beat and blare.

I can do something other than savagery and cruelty.

I can feel guilt if only a little,

I can apologize if only in a riddle.

Be good, I can,

My actions, I do command.

At least, I can,

Do a little to command.

After all, I am lost, they say,

But, do not fret, my pity will stay.

I do not think that I can ever be like the doctor,

That kind-hearted, smooth talker.

I do not think that I can ever be the perfect Jekyll,

That sweet man who watches people at the window sill.

But, do not fret, that does not mean that I am pure evil,

Despite that I may greedily achieve my fill.

Do not fret, that does not mean that I am without good,

I really do feel a little sorrow like I should.

That man over there,

For he I can care.

That woman by the shop,

Her head I do not need to lop.

That boy with the horse,

His life does not have to run its course.

That girl with the flowers,

Her days need not end in showers.

I can care, I swear,

I can love, I promise.

I can think of others, just to let you know,

I can find myself in people, just so you know.

I can care, it is true,

I can sympathize, empathize.

I can not start life anew,

But I can my morals resize.

I may be Edward Hyde,

But I am not just pain and lies.

I may be Edward Hyde,

But I am not just a man to chide.

Oh, Jekyll, you are not perfect,

You are just a wreck.

Jekyll, you can not beat me,

For I am perfect.

Guilt may be beyond me,

For the most part it seems.

But at least I can play,

And always have something to say.

Remorse may not be my friend,

Despite that I always feel it in the end.

But at least I can laugh,

And never ever collapse.

Oh, Jekyll, you are not perfect.

You are just a wreck.

Jekyll, you can not beat me,

For I am the one who is perfect.

I may be Edward Hyde,

But I am not just a man to chide.