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.