The painted faces congregate
In the mating season
The second hopes

They go alone
In no rush to reason
And there's a fountain

And a scimitar
Shaped yellow light
That picks you up

And cuts you down to size

The people there

And the furniture
Start to seem important
And a whole lot more

You catch the floor
With a vivid and absortant sharpened arc
Like the scimitar

Shaped yellow light
That picks you up




And cuts you down to size


I had questions for the tap dancer
Sat on my lap

And she had child proof caps on her answers
Stolen blower blow me a scone
And show me that handsome enhancer

She had a rock on her throttle
And a brown glass bottle full of
Shavings from the sun

Although those shoes affect your step
Don't forget, whose legs you're on


There's a fountain and a scimitar
Shaped yellow light
That picks you up

That cuts you down to size