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...