Oh, hello, Mr. Soul
I dropped by to pick up a reason
For the thought that I caught
That my head is the event of the season
Why in crowds just a trace of my face
Could seem so pleasin'
I'll cop out to the change
But a stranger is puttin' the tease on
I was down on a frown
When the messenger brought me a letter
I was raised by the praise of a fan
Who said I upset her
Any girl in the world
Could have easily known me better
She said,"You're strange, but don't change,"
And I let her
In a while will the msile on my face
Turn to plaster
Stick around while the clown who is sick
Does the trick of disaster
For the race of my head and my face
Is moving much faster
Is it strange I should change?
I don't know, why don't you ask her?