Clown figure dressed and slapped with a liver
Pooled in black and teased with pies
I run a mile only to fall
Fall into a sleep of half a day
Retired again only to work a 9/5
9/5 9/5 9/5 only to work a 6/4
 
Can you hear that noise?
a knocking, a knocking at the door
The door opens only to find myself
Sleeping on the floor
I look through a face
A face in a mirror watching
The mirror of a face I once knew
Knowing that one day my face will look old too

Silly little thoughts, caution, madness is lurking
Lurking to piece fragments of youth into a pile of shit
The majestic crown of shit that piles the youth of terror
Into the hearts of old aged pensioners
Dancing into supermarket music that sends
The little people into squirts of piss
The baby cries, I cry too, wouldn’t you a thousand times

Mashed together and thrown out of town
The magician walks out of his imagination
Into a rave of youth culture blinded by pills
The ills of ways that destroyed days
Lost forever in a time disturbed