Look at me, what do you see? It's often not I, that catches your eye. And should I be blinded, it's still me behind it, don't worry, be calm, just rewind it.

Two little wells on two round hills, and two pretty gardens about I've seen all the world gone down those wells But only dewy little drops come out

Beginning with a fountain black that’s made to fit in hand And ending with repeated phrase, by followers or fans But really I’m a tendency, habitual I am

On the most common of animal companions, I find myself in five places. I can indicate a tight race, or guide you through different spaces. I can come in columns and rows, Assist a sail as the wind blows, or detect for the hunter the prey it chases.

'Impossibility' that I was made. Conspiracy, as some would say. A scheme, they would have you pay. Aliens must be the only way.