Reality sits well with him
It's obvious, it's evident
He never folds his arms
He lets them hang
Picks his words as if he knew
The flat man hiding with a new
He never folds his arms
He lets them hang
So what's on his mind
Does it somersault like mine
Play rabbit and weasel
Yeah, what's on his mind
Does he keep his head in line
En spiegel
Oh oh oh oh...
Everyone has troubled thoughts
Jesus wept, and Krishna fought
But he never folds his arms
He lets them hang
He'll play them like a violin
Reality sits well with him
But he never folds his arms
He lets them hang
So what's on his mind
Does it somersault like mine
Play rabbit and weasel
Yeah, what's on his mind
Does he keep his head in line
En spiegel
So what's on his mind
Does it somersault like mine
Play rabbit and weasel
Yeah, what's on his mind
Does he keep his head in line
En spiegel