|
(brooker / reid) |
|
My prussian-blue electric clock's |
|
Alarm bell rings, it will not stop |
|
And i can see no end in sight |
|
And search in vain by candlelight |
|
For some long road that goes nowhere |
|
For some signpost that is not there |
|
And even my befuddled brain |
|
Is shining brightly, quite insane |
|
The chandelier is in full swing |
|
As gifts for me the three kings bring |
|
Of myrrh and frankincense, i'm told, |
|
And fat old buddhas carved in gold |
|
And though it seems they smile with glee |
|
I know in truth they envy me |
|
And watch as my befuddled brain |
|
Shines on brightly quite insane |
|
Above all else confusion reigns |
|
And though i ask no-one explains |
|
My eunuch friend has been and gone |
|
He said that i must soldier on |
|
And though the ferris wheel spins round |
|
My tongue it seems has run aground |
|
And croaks as my befuddled brain |
|
Shines on brightly, quite insane |
