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