When they look around

And they will look around

They'll be without the kind of things

We lax about

Do with backround inventions

For one last glimpse to the real



When devils astounded

Deepest instincts sound

Joys to be around

Commendable tones

A commanding role

For the crowd we bow

And are bound to



Begging and borrowing

Burrowing and bringing all sorts with him

And come to think of it

You're like a christmas dinner

A cupful of steep

Full, ready to reap

But it won't keep

There's holes, it's all show

You needed harnessing



But I hope you win the lottery

No tom-foolery

It's a genuine wish

I long for fairground attractions

For one last go at the wheel



Blow...

Blow...

Blow...

Blow...



And begging and borrowing

Burrowing and bringing all sorts with him

I'm trying but trying is frightening

I packed for an outing

An endless task

Though anything goes



Blow...

Blow...

Blow...

Blow...