|
Your multilingual business friend |
|
Has packed her bags and fled |
|
Leaving only ash-filled ashtrays |
|
And the lipstick, unmade bed |
|
The mirror, on reflection |
|
Has climbed back upon the wall |
|
For the floor she found descended |
|
And the ceiling was too tall |
|
Your trouser cuffs are dirty |
|
And your shoes are laced up wrong |
|
You'd better take off your Homburg |
|
'Cause your overcoat is too long |
|
Town clock in the market square |
|
Stands waiting for the hour |
|
When its hands they both turn backward |
|
And on meeting will devour |
|
Both themselves and also any fool |
|
Who dares to tell the time |
|
And the sun and moon will shadow |
|
And the signpost cease to sign |
|
Your trouser cuffs are dirty |
|
And your shoes are laced up wrong |
|
You'd better take off your Homburg |
|
'Cause your overcoat is too long |
|
Your trouser cuffs are dirty |
|
And your shoes are laced up wrong |
|
You'd better take off your Homburg |
|
'Cause your overcoat is too long |
|
Oh, your trouser cuffs are dirty |
|
And your shoes are laced up wrong |
|
You'd better take off your Homburg |
|
'Cause your overcoat is too long |
|
Your trouser cuffs are dirty... |
